


The Blokes at the Bar

by Cup_of_Lou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cup_of_Lou/pseuds/Cup_of_Lou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU! Louis is a straight guy who moved to another part of London. But Harry, his coworker, is just to charming. Maybe it was fate, or maybe just the endless smile that Harry was never without. But you could thank alcohol and a newly-finished relationship for their meetings, that was a given</p><p>( Or the AU where Harry and Louis work at a bar, Louis could swear he was straight at some time, and Liam, Zayn, and Niall are the gossiping roommates )<br/>  My tumblr here! cup-of-lou.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

        I gave a genuine smile to the girl working behind the counter, who looked good in her green apron and khaki jeans to my surprise. I usually hated uniforms, the stiff fabric giving the false profesional appeal, but the Starbucks apron must be the exception on her delicate structure. I thanked her for the coffee she had handed me, my words a little nicer than usual, a smile as warm as the cup on my lips. She replied with an expression that lacked the warmth I had, even this early in the day she had physically given up with her job. Her exasperated eye roll was followed by a mumbled reply, probably her attempt at customer friendliness, that barely reached my ears before her voice was bellowing for the next in the line.

       I ignored the sourness she gave me, I didn't need another reason for my hatred to my life to grow, taking the coffee cup and pressing it to my thirsty lips before I could sneer at her. It was warm and well needed as I beelined out of the way of the impatient, growing line. I got out easily, dodging a few rough shoulders thrown my way, as I pushed open the glass doors that held the Starbucks logo with a cocky kind of proudness. I was thankful that I had finally gotten to use the small gift card Eleanor had given me a while back to fuel my habit she had started in the first place. The thought of her was a little too much at the moment, so I took another sickly sweet gulp of the coffee to take away the thoughts. I just needed the 'Happy Birthday Lou' card gone, out of my wallet, so I could forget about it. Just forgetting about her was going to need alcohol, another thing to fill my night with for sure.

       I slipped out of the warm, downtown coffee shop into the frigid January air with regret, tightening the collar of my black button up coat against the relentless gusts of chilling air. Fucking January. The sky was gloomy as usual, people scurrying around like cockroaches running from the light, or in this instance, the freezing weather. The trees were bare, piles of old snow now turning to piles of dirty ice that crunched harshly under foot. Everything reminded me of a two tone world, bland and colorless, from the landscape that was minimal in this concrete jungle to the clothes that constricted peoples bodies, and it reminded me of how much I itched for summer to arrive.

The shorts, low cut shirts, and bright colors were what made me tick, but during winter months those colors were minimal, to my dread. Other than the fashion part of summer, I loved the warmth the change of seasons brought. Going to a beach and tanning or playing a friendly game of football in the park in the middle of town that would probably end in someone being thrown into the lake nearby, that was what I loved. Ah, summer, the best season of them all. Hot weather and sunshine. Could i ask for anything better?

        I walked the short, scenery lacking distance back to my flat with my head blocking out the whizzing of cars and people with places to be. Busy, busy, busy, it was how life was for so many people. I finishing my coffee which had lost its warmth halfway home, throwing the cup away before I reached the tall, concrete complex I called home. Zayn and I both shared a normal flat, well normal for guys with little pocket money to spare on anything, including living.

It was a modern theme apparent in the way it was made and how we decorated, or Zayn decorated it. We tried our best to keep the main areas nice looking and clean cut, letting our rooms be the places filled with posters of bands we loved and pictures of personal things to our own likings. We had agreed on a white, blue, and grey theme for the common places with wood furniture and not metal, I hated the coldness it gave off, back when we first moved in together. It was magazine worthy, at least in my mind, because it looked perfect almost all of the time, all the time if you excluded when we threw parties and got wasted with the help of plastic cups and cheap alcohol bought from down the street.

       "Finally, you're back. Where did you go, the bloody states?"  Zayn was already rolling his eyes as he peeked around the corner, not giving me a seconds beat before he was scolding me. I closed the door with the same look of sarcasm, closing the door with a small click. He had a dishcloth strung over his shoulder, body clad in his grimy sweats and tattered shirt, his usual at-home outfit. The air smelt of something savory, mixed in with the normal alcohol and smoke that Zayn called his 'musk', it felt like home. And smelt like. It was just home, coming back to sassy Zayn and his cooking addiction.

        "The line was long you twat. You know how saturday rush is." I kicked off my  worse-for-wear vans in the doorway with a casual shrug, my bare feet padding over to Zayn to give him a small, friendly peck on the cheek. Zayn gave a small pout of ‘Lou don’t patronize me with your lack of personal space’ before his eyes went wide with realization, a smile spreading across his face.

        "Here, you have to try this!" He twirled towards the stove that was littered with pots and pans containing different sauces that he found the recipes to, and I saw that today was spagetthi sauce day. He dipped a wooden spoon into a steaming mixture and wheeled around to shove it into my face. With hesitation, I stuck out my neck to reach the spoon that was being prodded into my face. I slurped up the reddish liquid, licking the remnants of the sour tasting stuff off my lips before shaking my head.

        "Not the one." I tried to sound as nice as I could while trying to drown the taste with a glass of water conveniently close to me, hiding my sneer before I took a seat at the island in the kitchen, covered in empty jars, spices, and cooking book pages. "Too much salt and not enough oregano." I had been around him long enough to know when he added what, and the names of all the things that he sprinkled over the food he made.

        "Dammit!" Zayn swore with exasperation, throwing his hands up in frustration of all of his food experiments. He seems to forget about his hands dirtied with cooking supplies as he runs them through his unstyled hair. "I could have sworn I had it right this fucking time."

       "Just keep trying, love. You'll get it someday." I laughed, gathering the sheets of paper littered over the marble together to make a semi-organized stack for him to sort out later, the mother in me popping out yet again with his lack of responsibility. Zayn loved to cook, or at least gave off that impression, but he never understood that you had to clean up afterwards. This is where I usually came in, swooping down to clean up his messes while he lounged around with his book of ‘recipes’. I knew it was because of my four little sisters, except it was more pathetic because he was a grown man with actual responsibilities to act out.  

        "I hate this trial and error portion," He sighed as he turned off the stove burner dramatically, good ol Zayn and his love for overreacting, "I just need to learn how to make a good tomato sauce, is that too much to ask?" He picked up the pot I had sampled and dumped it down the sink, turning on the water to wash the pot out.

        "Zayn, neither of us knew how to cook until you took that class. Be thankful that we haven't starved. Or worse, gained hundreds of pounds via fast food." We both laughed, Zayn handing me a sponge as I continued to clean off the dark marble countertop of his cooking fiasco. We both knew it was true, without Zayns interests and knowledges of cooking, I would no doubt have an even bigger tummy and Zayn would have a little more to grab on to, thats for sure.

        "I'd still look good. My coverline for the paper would be ‘three hundred pound man found modeling for Chanel’." Zayn motioned a banner with his hand above his head, kind of cliche if you ask me. "I'd get tons of money, even double my obese weight in money, I'd be the richest bloke in the world."

        "Sure, you have fun with that." I threw the sponge back at Zayn who frowned childishly when it hit his forearm. "You and your fantasies, which one will you live out?" I remarked, Zayn handing me another pot to wash out.

        "Maybe my one with Tom-"

        "Nevermind, I don't want to know which one." I winced at the thought of his recurring fantasy. I had heard this fantasy a thousand times before. Instead of hearing his voice play out the scenes, I scuffed over to the main room, grabbing the remote off the coffee table. I turned it on to the Food network, Zayns favorite station only because of the hot cook and the guest stars, and sat aimlessly while I stared at the screen. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk about anything involving love, seeing as the one person I did love hadn't talked to me in a week, maybe more.

         "Since when are you not open to talking about our celebrity crushes?" Zayn raised his eyebrows from the kitchen, drying the pots with a dishcloth before putting them up on the hanger with some clacking that hurt my ears a little more than usual. Write down that for another reason to drink, needs to calm the fuck down.

         "Since I haven't talked to Eleanor in more than a week." I knew it wasn’t that long a wait, but still, after I had moved a month or two back she had grown distant. "It's not like I moved to Russia, why can't she just pick up her phone to call or send a quick text?" We  had been dating solidly for about seven months now, six if you ‘ended’ the relationship when I had moved. She was amazing, but sometimes I wondered why I stayed with her. We broke up often, on and off and on again was common for us.

         I pretended not to see Zayns sympathetic look. The one that Zayn always wore with me, too frequently for my liking. I could understand he cared, he was Zayn for gods sakes, but sometimes I just wanted Zayn to tell me all the hard facts like he used to before I got so, I don't know, soft? I pretended that I wasn't so utterly annoying, settling to show my dulled emotions through the roll of my eyes., as I turned back to the show. Some recipes for a slow cooker, something Zayn had marked high on his list of 'things to get'. I watched for a quiet ten minutes, itching to pull out my phone and see if she had texted or called or something, but I was met by the realistics of it when Zayn came waddling over to his seat next to me, plopping down with a harsh wave of  'she's ignoring you' that he clearly didn't know he gave off.

         "Well how about the bar you're working at? The forty paper place on Seymour street, I think." Zayn changed the subject. He knew I was one to wallow in my own pity, and he was one to just keep moving on, so I felt we balanced each other out. I had forgotten about the job I had set up a couple of weeks ago, at a bar of all places.

         "Oh yeah, that place." Truthfully, I wasn't looking forward to working, even less so because I would be working on a night where all I felt like doing was consuming enough alcohol to feed Ireland's population. But sadly, I needed the cash, and this said bar was the only place hiring on such short notice. Plus, it was close to the flat, so I wouldn't be required to take subway rides smelling of all the smells that accumulated at the dark hours of night in a place that sold alcohol. "Which reminds me, can I borrow your black semi-sleeve? Uniforms and all that shit." I found it relieving that the uniform was all black, I owned enough of the color and would even say that it suited me quite nicely.

         "Sure, whatever, just as long as you bring it home." He muttered as he focused on show's host, her blabbering about some tips and tricks for cooks at home. He must have been referring to the time I left his shirt at a girls house during one of the weeks I was unattached to Eleanor, and it just so happened to be Zayns favorite, so he held that grudge for a long time.

         "That was one bloody time!" I exclaimed, "gimme a break on the guilt, will you?" I found a bubbly laugh coming out of my throat, his eyes crinkling with his own laughter.

         "Not until you buy me a new one." He smirked at the screen, knowing he was repeating himself again. We had had this conversation, argument, what have you, too many times to count, and it always ended with my promise of buying him a new one that always got swept under the bed.

        "Whatever you prick." I joked, turning back to the tv. They are now talking about casserole of some sort that was making my mouth water and stomach rumble with hunger. If only Zayn could cook that well, then I would be in absolute heaven.

        "Twat." He threw the insult right back at me with a little snarl, not missing a beat. I let out a dramatic gasp, a girly gasp that was accompanied with a hand to the mouth, not that Zayn cared or noticed.

        "You're the twat." My failed attempt at a comeback made us both laugh, foolish laughter at that.

         "Our relationship in a nutshell." Zayn muttered. And that it was.

 

* * *

 

        **Hav fun at work. I wont burn down the house xxx**

        I looked at the text from Zayn before slipping my out of date phone back into my pocket. I was hoping for a long awaited text from El, but I wasn't surprised to find the screen lit from Zayn instead.

        Before I knew it, I was pushing open the doors to the bar I had gotten my established position at. It was dimly lit, a very sleek theme, and maybe that was just this part of London, but it was more with the times than my old part of the town. It was even elegant for a bar, not the drunk filled, broken bottled places I was so very accustomed too. This was the kind of bar your parents would go to to catch up with friends, or the kind of bar someone would take you for a work meeting. I was far more comfortable with the vomit-reeking, drunken-filled bars that had crying girls in all corners of the room than this high established place, but money was money.

They, a girl named Danielle to be exact, had told me to come in at five, before the rush would start up, so I had grabbed a quick something to eat that was now sitting in my stomach rather pleasantly. Just a burger on the way, Zayn wasn't in the mood for cooking so I had turned to the handy-dandy Mcy-D's. When I opened the pretty glass doors, a common thing I found, there were very few people, just a couple in the back sitting at a table and a guy hunched over at the bar with an early start to his drunkenness.

        I looked around, allowing my eyes to soak in my job surroundings. There was a bar stationed to the right, hugging the wall, with two barmaid exits/entrances on the ends. Booths hugged the left wall, leaving space in the middle for seven to ten tables. It was a hipster-themed building, obviously, with wine bottles creating the dim lighting and old wooden floor-boards that were scuffed to a nice levelness. It was homy, smelling of booze and savoriness, a smell wafting in from the kitchen that was in an enclove to my very far left. Accompanied by the soft hipster music, it was very very posh and seemed to work for me as well.

I stood, shifting my weight from one leg to another, feeling rather awkward standing in the entrance while waiting for someone to notice me. Well not notice notice, more like acknowledge that I existed and was actually here for the job. I was wearing my favorite pair of black skinny jeans, cuffed at the ankles, my dark vans, and -Zayns semi-sleeve to top it all off. And with Zayns help, I had styled my hair into a nice quiff, just slightly under my bar of perfection.

         "Hello, welcome to forty paper. Will you want a seat at the bar, table, or a booth?" A girl rounded the corner, a bright smile on her face that was bound to fade after a few hours. She had shoulder-length curly brown hair along with soft brown eyes and a model like body structure that could only do her good with the customers. She wore a tight black dress and bright red heels with a matching necklace, a nice splash of color to add to a simple dress.

         "I'm Louis. This is supposed to be my first night working here?" I said rather sheepishly, like a question more than a confident statement, my eyes darting to the wood-plank floor in order to hide my growing embarrassment that was showing in the form of a blush. I hated this part of the job, showing up without knowing anyone and basically thrown to the dogs, forced to socialize with people and let them know that 'hey, I'm actually a great person without a criminal record'.

       "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Louis." A look of sympathy flooded her face and my hopefully fading blush grew to life again as she reached out her hand. I shook it lightly, afraid to crush her delicate hand. "Well Louis, I'm Danielle from the phone call, and I do apologize about giving you Saturday night shift. Sam, our boss, gave it to you on the house as he says it." She laughed like it was some sort of inside joke. "He's usually never around, but when you do meet him you'll find he's a pretty cool guy. Follow me for the tour, yeah?"

I followed obediently as she lead me to the bar, teaching me how to use the taps, how to clean the bottles out and place them in recycling, how to clean the mugs and where the iced ones were, and where they placed money. They also had a button for security, something I found pretty nice and poshy for a bar. I was more used to the brut guys coming in and hauling out the unlucky guy or gal, but this would be a nice and more effective way of dealing with the unruly.

         "Is anyone else working tonight?" I asked after we had finished the tour and had sat at the bar to wait for the crowd to start up. The flow of people coming in was increasing, people coming up asking for a beer and a scotch here and there, but they were able to hold a decent conversation. I had learnt that she had been working here for a couple of months, and the income was decent by her wardrobe.

        "Just me, you, a few non social waiters.Oh, and a bloke named Harry. He usually arrives around six when things start picking up more. He's a sweet kid, a young one too." She yawned, out of tiredness and not how boring I was being. She walked over to a cabinet for a shot glass offering another glass, "You want something to start you off? They keep us here till four and at three we kick everyone out, so it's a pretty long night, and being a newbie makes it even harder."

        "Sure, ill need it." I groaned internally, running a hand through my hair and over his face by instinct, cursing myself for fucking up my hair. I hated the hours of this job, and the only reason I was working here was because the pay was good and I got free alcohol on the side.

       "Yeah, the hours are rubbish here. I don't think we get enough credit for what we do." She sent my filled glass sliding down the counter with both skill and ease, where I caught it with my hand as her shoulders came down from a casual shrug. "Cheers." She raised her glass as did I and we drank it all in one gulp. It burned my nose and eyes on the way down, making me blink at the strength. They didn't mess around with their alcohol here.

         "What do you mean?" I slid the empty glass down to her with not as much grace, a murmured thanks hanging in the air. She took them and put them in the sink, leaning on the counter while messIng with her hair in sheer boredom. If i didn't know any better, I would think she was trying to flirt with me. But she wasn't my type and I wasn't hers, so that erased the thought of flirting all together. The crowd was picking up, people filling in and the waiters were buzzing around to take their orders. Danielle was right, they are non social. None of the five even said hello to me, a few of them finding in them enough courage and sociability to give me a sneer or glare when I huffed at their lack of communication.

        "We have to deal with the emotionally unstable, abusive, and situation-avoiding people that no one else will. And instead of talking to them or giving them help, we hand them a beer. No part of that plan is good, and we do it all for shit pay." She shrugged like it was the most casual thing when it truly wasn't, popping off a beer cap to hand the beer to a girl who had been waiting patiently at the bar. She took it and swirled back to her table, a wave of her hair hitting me in the face unintentionally. I frowned, sending a few swears wafting in her direction. The music was loud enough that she didn't hear, but Danielle snickered quietly as she leaned against the arrangement of liqueurs on the wall while looking around at the people.

You had your sophisticated, a party that had started thirty minutes back, with a group of women who were in nice dress suits, holding a glass of wine or a beer instead of anything stronger. You had your actual party people, doing shots in a eight seating booth,  and that was just a frat house or something with the occasional girlfriend taking a shot or two. And then you had the drunks. Barred up in the very corner of the room, they were slurring their words and waving down a waiter even when their drink was half full.

         "You have a point. I've never really thought about it like that." And it was true, I hadn't. I was usually fine with dealing with the drunks, it was a hell of a lot easier than dealing with some people sober. The pay had been even shittier at the old bar where I worked, but this place was a little better in terms of crowd and pay. Plus the drunks stayed away from us, which is always a nice thing to have

         "I always have a- Harry!" She squealed like my sisters when I return home, lifting up the wooden gate to shimmy over to whoever she was referring too. I has to twirl my barstool around to see who she was talking about.

         Even in the dim light I could make out all of the boys prodominant features as he was too caught up in talking to Danielle to see me oogling him. He looked to be twenty, me being twenty two, which would definietly check off one box for dating reuirements. He had luscious, silky brown curls that swooped to the side, soft enough to card through my fingers I thought aimlessly. It was a new style, one that I had never seen before, but oh did he rock it. There's another check; great hair. Even from across the room, I could tell his eyes were bright and full of life, two glowing green orbs that seemed to glow even brighter when he smiled, which was a common thing for this guy. His lips were plump, the perfect mix of red and pink, pulled into a big smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes. He had the same color dresscode, but in some ungodly way his jeans were much tighter and he wore a v-neck that hinted at the sight of two tattoos that graced his collarbones. Even from this distance I was starting to make out all of his tattoos, on his forehard, left forearm, collarbones, wrists, but every ink-patch was small and almost unnoticable. He's hot, I thought before I stopped myself. I liked girls, I always have, for as long as I have remembered, so why do I have this sudden change? He was trouble, I could feel it in my veins, but maybe a good kind of trouble?

         "Louis, this is Harry. Harry, Louis, the new barhand." Danielle lead whoever must be Harry over by the arm, his smile turning into a smirk of impossible size. His eyes seemed to grow in intensity, two orbs of amazement. "Louis is the new bartender Sam hired a few days back. He's new here, moved from the other side of London."

         "Well hello Louis." Harry said simply. The way he said my name, the way it rolled off his tongue, sent shivers crawling down my back. He said it in a completely different way that Eleanor, like it was a secret only the two of them knew, yet I didn't know it at all. I just stared back, unable to cluster together any words to utter out of my gaping mouth. My brain wasn't giving any assistance, seeming to scream at my that I was having mixed emotions. I was afraid to open my mouth because I could utter 'why am I attracted to a guy right now' and make everything one big pool of awkward. "It's nice to see Sam hired someone who didn't raid the booze cubbys yet." He joked playfully, his smirk never faltering as he redirected his stare to Danielle. But even when he wasn't looking at me, he was.

         "It's nice to meet you too, Harry." I smiled, hoping it made up for my lack of words before, "Yeah, Danielle here has kept a close eye on me. I've only been able to smuggle a couple of shots here and there while her backs turned." I thought, why the hell not, as I made a joke. It was a good call on my part as they both laughed, a score for me really.

         "Just as long as you're standing at the end of your shift, I don't care." Danielle shrugged yet again, her carefree attitude very apparent, walking back around the counter to help someone with a margarita before exiting again. The silence that grew between me and Harry was loud, but neither of us had enough balls to break it. I mean, we had just met, so we were allowed a certain number of awkward silences, right? We waited till Danielle came back before there was any words exchanged "Here, you two take over the bar for a bit so I can get something to eat from the back. Get to know each other, you have a good eight hours to spend in each others company."

         "Will do, Dani." Harry said, winking at Louis provocatively in a way that he thought was subtle. My heart fluttered, cheeks growing warm at his action. "So what made you move, mate?" Harry had moved around the bar to stand by him, filling up a glass of beer for himself as he waited for my answer.

        "We didn't have a choice, really. We were kicked out of our former flat and found this one was cheap so we just moved." I stated, getting a glass of a random tap for myself. Beer was beer and I just needed the booze to dull my acute senses of Harry. His starring, his looks of affection, hell, even the slight touches twe share freak me out.

Harry seemed content with my answer, shaking his head to himself in a secret agreement that lead us both to silence. We both sipped at our glasses, watching all the people who had magically shown up all at once mill around the room in some unknown order. I would steal quick glances at my co-worker, examining his outfit and tattoos when he wasn't looking.

The tattoo on his inner forearm was in cursive, a sentence or two that I couldn't make out. The tattoo on his left upper arm seemed to be two intertwined male signs that were made into two compasses, an interesting design. It was only when I was looking at the large tattoos that I saw the small ones littered on his wrists, the ones I had thought I saw when I first laid eyes on the lad. One was a lock, barely hidden by his seemingly expensive watch. Another was a smiley face, a weird tattoo to me and I lived with a flatmate litterened in 'weird' designs in permanent ink. He had a few others also, three balls in a cluster wrapped in a ribbon, what looked to be a box with an X running through it, and a small lightbulb all in the vicinity of his wrists.

         "Are you going to stare at me all night or invite me home?" Harry snickered, the noise and his sudden words so close to my ears making me jump slightly. He had the same devilish look in his eyes, the boilings of a troublemaker, when I redirected my eyes from his porcelain flesh and moved my eyes. Should I ask him about the tattoos or not, I thought.

         "What do your tattoos mean?" I blurted before I could pussy out and change my mind. Harry smirked again, that damn smirk, rolling up his left sleeve so I could see the larger ones above the two compass-signs. It was a pencil with two working ends and no eraser, a puzzling tattoo that didn't exactly tie in to any of the other inks.

         "Are you prepared for a long story? Well not really long." I nodded anyway and he continued. "When I was a teen,  I think fourteen, I came out as gay. Not a lot of people liked it, I was shamed and outcasted from everything. I got really depressed, and it came to a point that the only reason I was still there was because of my friend Liam and my mum. I'll spare all the dramatic details, but it ended with me getting better and moving away from 'home'." He used his fingers to air quote home, as if it never was in the first place, "We moved here with Liam and Niall, a bloke we met at uni. Now that you know my basic life story, which is nice and awkward for a first meeting, are you ready for the meanings of the tattoos?" He let out a sharp laugh like it was funny, funny how trusting he was with his coworker. But, nonetheless, he held his question in the air. I decided that there was something different about this boy, from his homophobic background to the way he looked at me like I was some sort of untouchable treasure. Which was more to my delight than anything else.

         "I mean, if you want to tell me." I tried to dull my emotions down, which made his laugh jump into the air with an even louder bounce. It was then, when Harry was laughing his ass off at my pathetic attempt at causality, that I noticed Danielle at the end of the bar. That was why we were undisturbed, I thought as I saw he serving up drink after drink to the awaiting patrons.

         "Okay," He pointed to the double ended pencil with an incredibly long finger. I found it hard to look at the tattoo when I had ET's finger in front of me, "We're gonna start here and move down, organization and all that. Plus it just so happens that this is the order I got them, so double Kudos to me." Another rich laugh resinated from him, seeming to challenge the pumping music for dominance. "So this one means I'm not a mistake, you can't fix me, and I got it when things were really bad. My mum was all but willing to give a limb for me to have it done, so there was no protest on her part." I nodded and he moved the skeletal finger downwards, "The compass thing means our heads were in the right place and we knew what we were doing, that it wasn't something we were doing for attention. I got this one a couple of months after when I was recovering from all my shit." I wanted desperately to ask who was 'they' and 'we' but I knew it wasn't my place to ask such a personal question, not that he would deny me the answer.

         "This one," He continued on to his right forearm, "This line of lovely cursive, courtesy of Liam, says I'm the same guy from five minutes prior in honor of my lost friends, or supposide friends to be technical. A couple of weeks in space from the last one, and it hurt like a real bugger too." He laughed again, except now it lacked the aggressiveness, dragged down with the reminiscing sadness. "This little cluster of pearls means me, myself, and I are the only ones that matter. The only prized people whose opinion was on the front line of my mind. My mum drew that one, was real proud when I got it tattooed. She even cried about it, which was really freaky. The smiley, which was supposed to be a smiley head but the tattoo artist was confused on it or something so it didn't turn out that way, means I love who I am." Easy enough, I thought. "And I got that one like the same night as the pearls.

"The lock over here means you can't change me, I'm staying like this, and that was after a particularly bad homophobe scare. And finally, my last tattoo for now, the box. This ones pretty straight forward, at least to me it is. It means that you can't put me into your box of conformity. I'm happy being gay and I don't want to change. I got that a couple of months ago, I was trying out a new place Liam had recommended and wanted something meaningful to add to my collection." Harry finished his 'tour' and looked up at me with a satisfied, lonesome smile that tugged at the depths of my heart. I was finally realizing how young he looked, how he should have looked eager because he was still fucking young, but instead I was looking at a boy who had seen too many wars and hadn't smiled quite as often as he cried

         "And what about the lightbulb?" I pointed to the tattoo he has missed, pretending not to recognize the look of sadness. "What does that one mean?"

         "That if being gay was a choice, it was the best one I've ever made." He wore the biggest smile I had ever seen, all signs of his past battles erasing with the creases forming by the corners of his eyes. It seemed to light up the whole room, or maybe it was just me being all sappy, but it was a loving, blinding light that stunned me for a second.

         "You're very philosophical." I admitted as the younger boy rolled down his sleeves. Another smirk grew on his lips, and I saw that even with his wounds and scars, his smiles were constant on his face and he was usually always shining in some way, his perfectly white teeth or his gleaming green eyes.

         "And you want more philosophical meaning behind the tattoos?" I nodded, waiting for the cheesiness to pour out of his seducing mouth, "I got them because people can put me in a box, force me to love girls or whatnot, but they will never be able to scratch away the ink on my skin."

         "I can feel the strong metaphors soaking through my pores." I snickered at his laughter followed my own. "Wow, Harold, I think I can be the next John Green if I'm around you for a week." I laughed even harder at the horrified squeak he emitted.

"Harold?" He asked it like no one had ever given him a nickname, never given him any more than the thought of  'Harry'.

"Yeah, like the longer version of Harry. Don't people call you that?" My laughter was bubbling out at a dangerous speed, and I had to remind myself that he was still as much a stranger as anyone else, except for the part where he told me a life story through tattoos.

         "You sure are weird, Louis." His laughter seemed forced, like a cover for something, and it allowed them both to lull into the drunken buzz of the bar.

         And that was how our night/early morning went. We would talk, joke, and drink our way through the ten hour shifts, Harry guarding himself whenever I got to close. Harry told me all about his life, or all about the parts he wasn't insecure about. He told me how his mum still lives in Holmes Chapel with his stepdad, and his older sister goes home every so often from her job in a close part of London. He sees her a lot, when they both have free time, and I got the impression that Harry loved her more than I loved my  younger sisters. In turn I told him about my siblings, parents, and my old home in Doncaster. He listened intently, nodding along and asking questions when he felt they were needed, which kept the conversation at a comfortable pace.

The longer I was there, talking to the most quirkiest guy in the world, I realized I was having a great time. It had to be the first time in weeks, even months, that I had an actual conversation with someone other than Zayn or my mum. He talked to me like we had been mates since primary school, like I was a constant figure in his life when I hadn't known him a couple of hours prior. But I found I was giving him that trust right back, and I wasn't all that trusting of people I had just met, so this was a new found gerrain for me. One of my favorite things about Harry was his simplicity, he knew boundaries quite well and his frequent questions always stayed in the area of comfort. Well, simplistic wouldn't do the younger lad justice. He was complex too, in his thinking and his word choice, but not the bad kind of complex where you were left scrambling for things to say. Bottom line was he wa just comfortable.

         "Okay guys," Her voice broke the quiet space around us that I hadn't notice dulled in sound, "It looks to be about time to close shop." Danielle was wiping down the counter with a white cloth, the wooden counter shining in the lights. "I already dealt with the tables and shit while you two were engrossed in conversation." Her recognition of our absorbent into each other made me blush, and I somehow knew he was the same color in his cheeks as well.

         "Wow, time just flies." Harry's slow speech stated. If I hadn't been with him this whole night, I would have guessed he was drunk or something, but no, he was just a naturally slow speaker. Not slow as in impaired, more like slow as in a lullaby, lulling you. "This job is so fucking demanding, it wears me out." I turned to see him stretching his arms, and I ignored the way his shirt rode up to show his happy trail. It sent a wave of something through me, a new emotion. I instead focused on how he was now yawning, his large hand covering the equally large mouth.

         "You and me both bucko." Danielles laugh was dry, stretched, "How about you Louis, how you holding up?" She threw the tattered rag into one of the sinks before maneuvering the bargate, going to the coat rack to slip on her coat.

         "It feels like a normal all nighter." I lied with a comfortable smile. In all truths, I hated all nighters. Without a proper nights rest, the bags under my eyes grew to inhuman proportions and turned a very noticeable dark blue, like a black eye almost. Plus I got cranky, something that Zayn could fully account for seeing as he was usually the reason I did all-nighters anyway. I was just ready to go home,  I thought as I stifled a yawn, running a hand through my flattened quiff.

         "Bullshit. We know you feel like utter shit." Harry was snickering, motioning for Louis to exit the bar. He was  pulling his coat on also, a hoodie that would swamp my torso. His now familiar cheeky grin was plastered to his face like it was his default wallpaper, his two dimples familiar craters on his face. He ran a seemingly large hand through his fringe, the curls bouncing into place again.

         "And how could you possibly know that?" I turned to grab my own coat off the rack, following the two towards the front door. It was only us three left in the building, the waiters booking it the first chance they could. And it was surreal, the bar after hours, because of its aired out smell and the lack of background noise. It was kind of sketchy, that was for sure.

         "Because we feel the same way." Danielle chimed in, "even after months of these insane hours, my body still screams its tired. If it wasn't for the periodical shot I take from the bar, I'd be out cold right now." They both laughed and I found that my laughter was mingling in with theirs now.

         "Wouldn't we all?" Harry jingled the keys to the bar in his hand as he turned, eyes scanning through the general area of the bar. He must have been looking for passed out drunks, shattered cups or wallets or what not. He must have been satisfied with what he didn't find and turned back to the door. "I'll lock up tonight Dani. You go home to Titus."

         Daniel sneered at him in the most friendly way possible, her hair flicking over her shoulder as she turned to talk to him, "You twat, he's a goddamn cat!" She was pushing open the doors and a blast of cold air infiltrated the warm bar's heating. I had forgotten that it was January while I was in such warmth of the cozy space, not to mention the warm personalities I found myself surrounded by. I shivered involuntarily, pulling my coat closer in attempts for more warmth.

         "Night love." He smiled at her insult, mock insult really, as she turned with a wave of curls towards the staff parking lot that was now desolate. Harry watched her leave as well, waiting till her rear taillights came on in a vibrant red before moving to open the door.  He was even gentleman enough to hold the door open for me, the cold air blasting against my face as I nodded in thanks, walking out into the freezing winter climate. I waited for Harry to lock the door, giving it a final shake to make sure it was properly locked.

Harry was surprised to see him still standing there, his brows knitting together in confusion, "Aren't you going to go home, mate?" He asked it like I was brain dead, and at that moment I was really acting it.

         "Right, yeah. Sorry, blanked there for a second." And it was true. I just lost my train of thought, forgetting about getting home while I was just making a fool of myself. I turned, trying not to think about the look of confusion sprawled across his face. The street was lit up by dysfunctional street lights, well at least the few that were still working.

         "Don't tell me you're walking home." His voice was loud and strong in the quiet city. "It's four in bloody the morning, where's your car?" I stopped, seeing a conversation in the future, turning to see his face. He was wearing the look of confusion, that was for certain.

         "I walk," I shrugged it off, seeing his confused look grow, "I just live in the complex down the way. Felton complex?" Hopefully he would know the complex. It was pretty big, maybe twelve floors, and on the outskirts of the downtown area. And if he knew it, he would know it wasn't a far walk at all, so it was totally doable at four in the morning.

         "Oh no way!" His look of confusion vanished at a comedic speed, morphing into his signature smile, dimples included. "I live there too! Floor six, how about you?" He stuffed the jingling keys into his pocket and moved closer while he moved both his hands into his hoodies pocket. Seeing his motion made me feel how cold my hands were, so I copied him.

         "Floor six as well." This is a coincidence, I thought, but a good one. You always need a new neighbor in a new town to get to know. "Number twenty four." If we were neighbors, might as well see how close we lived to each other.

         "Number twenty seven." If it was possible for his smile to grow, it just did. "So you were that bloke who was moving in all those boxes. And the other guy, big quiff," he motioned to his hair in the way Zayns was usually styled, "Is he your boyfriend?"

         "Oh god no." I laughed harder than I should have at the thought of me and Zayn in an actual relationship. "We're only mates, I'm straight." Before I said it, adding the last big of information seemed like a good idea, but once it was formed into voiced words, I sounded like a homophobic prick. "Not that being gay is bad or anything, just me and Zayn could never work out. He's too moody." I was trying to cover my roadkill, and it didn't look like it was working.

         "Oh, okay." He was trying to hide his feelings, but he didn't do well because I could clearly hear the note of sadness in his voice. I'm a complete ass, I thought. Here I was, with a boy who probably thought of me as a friend, and I was making homophobic remarks like people in his home town. How absolutely stupid of me.

         "So yeah." I looked to the ground, kicking a loose rock with my shoe to avoid his hurting eyes. "I'll just be going back. See you tomorrow." I couldn't meet his eyes, I was too ashamed at my ass-ness to do so, giving a plastic smile before starting to walk away. My footsteps seemed to hit the concrete like atomic bombs, loud and echoing into the quiet world around me.

Maybe he wanted to walk with me, I thought as my steps sounded even louder. This made me slow down, my steps quieting to the sounds of large freight trains. I wasn't even that loud of a stepper, just the silence that surrounded us was choking out every noise. This meant I could hear when his steps started up again, and I slowed even more.

         "Wait up, we can walk together." His voice was loud and resignated off the buildings. I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding, relief washing through me like a cleanse of some sort. He didn't hate me, or he didn't hate me enough to walk home alone.

         "I thought you said it was too late to be walking home." I waited till he was at my side before I asked. "Where's your car?" I was mocking him now, hoping to cover past wounds with sarcasm always seemed to be the proper solution for me.

         "Oh shut up. It's not even a ten minute walk, I'm not wasting gas on that." His smile broke out along with an eye roll, a new gesture for him as I broke into a smile myself. "I'm not a billionaire." Harry fell in synch with me quite easily, his long steps shortening to match my shorter ones. "Besides, I think we live on a very scenic route." His arms spread wide to show off the concrete world we lived in, a few scrawny trees shaking with the cold in front of some lucky buildings.

"You are such a hypocrite. 'It's too late to be walking home'." I tried to mock his lower voice, failing horrible and ending up with both of us laughing at my horrible attempt.    

      "What did you just call me?" He pushed out the words between choked giggles, a happy sound that seemed to make the night around them just a little bit brighter. His smile was getting increasingly larger, his smile now flooding into the words he spoke. "You see this, this right here?" He moved his wrist in front of my face, pointing at the cluster of pearls etched into his light skin. "This tattoo right here means-" I interrupted him, barely able to hold back my laughter.

"You, yourself, and lovely Harold here are the only people who matter, and silly Louis here doesn't mean jack shit." I laughed all the way through my sentence, unable to hold the seriousness I wanted to maintain. His laughter, mixed with mine, was happy and light and sounded perfectly matched in a way I had never noticed. "Do I get a prize?" My voice was deliberately coated in sarcasm, and when I looked to Harry he was in the middle of a large eye roll.

         "Shut up you twat." He playfully punched my arm, the loosely balled fist soft and gentle against my forearm.

         "Fuckwad." I rounded my insult at him with even more sarcasm laced between each syllable to draw out his addictive laugh. I was starting to see how comfortable I was around this tattooed lad, how I was growing even more used to his smile and the way he held himself, it was like we were life-long friends.

         "That's lord farquaad to you." He said matter of factly, and I found I was staring at him with a look of 'what the fuck' clearly marked on my face. He raised his very nice eyebrows, very nice, where did that come from, in my direction with clear disbelieve.

         "Lord what?" The name sounded familiar. I couldn't think of from what.

         "Lord farquaad. From Shrek." He looked at me like I was some sort of uncultured swine, like I had grown up in a cave for my whole life, which I had clearly not done. I think I remembered watching it with the girls one christmas, a movie they raved about but I didn't find very interesting.

         "You still watch Disney?" I was slightly surprised, but then again, this was Harry. Harry, the cuddling teddy bear littered with scary guy tattoos. No guy with tattoos, at least the ones I knew, would be caught dead near anything close to Disney. But then again, the only guy with tattoos I was really close to was Zayn, and he had a major thing for chick-flicks.

         "It's Dreamworks." He corrected, eyeing me like he it was first hand knowledge for everyone, "And just so you know, me flat mate, Liam, is a big Disney/Pixar/Dreamworks bloke. He always makes me sit through them with him, which I usually don't mind. What, do you have a problem with it? You have younger sisters, you should be used to those kinds of movies." He brought up the fact, and usually it would just be something I didn't think about, but now I saw that he had actually remembered, and it sent unnecessary butterflies flying through me in a new way.

         "I just didn't pin you for a Shrek kind of guy is all." I shrugged, seeing the lit up complex in view. "And before you show me another fucking tattoo, no, I'm not putting you in a box." I laughed when he whined next to me, his finger aimed to point to the tattoo on his arm.

         "Am I that predictable?" He laughed another rich laugh, so rich I could use it as a blanket.

         "Yes you are, Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

I was woken up to the lovely presence of Zayn by my bedside, grumbling and swearing loud enough for the whole of Britain to hear, maybe a few unlucky Irish. I only peaked my eyes open, the light making it hard for me to see anything, but I could tell that with Zayn’s hair flying out in every direction with his body clad in only his boxers that he had just woken up, most certainly from my alarm. The more he fumbled for my phone, the closer his crotch got to my face, and I had to roll over to stifle the groan. I never wanted his crotch in my face. No thank you.

"Your phone is a fucking siren, Lou. Jesus fucking Christ." He tossed the phone back into my bed, barley missing my back. "And just a heads up, clean up this fucking shit hole before you bring home any chicks. I almost killed myself on your shoe collection." He slammed the door with enough force and anger to shake my room at its infrastructure, my bed vibrating with the emotion and making me wake up from the sudden movement.

I stirred, my face twisted into the frown that Zayn had infected me with. I knew it was no use to try and fall back asleep, and I cursed Zayn with his door-slamming tendencies. I check the clock on my bedside, confirming that it was indeed midafternoon, and that I had slept a good ten hours. I had practically slept the whole day away, a thought that sent a groan rippling through me before I forced myself to stand.

It was when I rose my body, various aches and cracks popping throughout my joints, that I noticed I had fallen asleep in my clothes from the night prior. This was going to fuck up my shift for tonight, seeing as I had my black shirt crinkled far past the point of correction. I would have to beg for another black shirt from my pissed-off roommate, but that could wait till after I had taken a shower to rid myself of this icky, i-slept-all-day feeling that seemed to coat my body.

Trying to maneuver my room, I realized Zayn was right. I really needed to clean my room. Without Eleanor here to nag me to clean my room, and without anyone to impress, my room had become a literal rubbish heap. One corner was filled with a whole array of fast food containers, while another corner seemed to be overflowing with dirty clothes. My shoes, however, seemed to fill every nook and cranny that wasn’t overtaken by other things, making my room a mine-field of the fashion sense.

Speaking of Eleanor, I thought to myself as I searched the duvet for the phone I was almost pelted with. I found it easily enough, taking it in my hand as I unlocked it. Five missed calls, seven missed messages. I couldn’t help but groan at the twelve notifications, throwing the electronic back into the sea of my bedsheets to deal with at a more practical hour. She was going to be pissed. No, scratch that unfitting verb, she was going to be furious. Cut-off-your-balls level of furios. She was the kind of person who felt a slap to the face when you didn't respond to her message in a reasonable time, and here I had given her seven slaps to the face and five other injuries to some other part of her. This isn’t going to be good, I thought, I’ll just talk to her after my shower.

I shuffled into the main room with my lids hung heavy, no Zayn being in sight as I scanned over the large open room. He must have fallen back asleep, which would work out better for me. I wouldn’t have to deal with an angry midmorning Zayn, one of the worst versions of the bloke. I walked over to the basket of clean laundry, extracting a towel from the pile. WIth the flick of a lightswitch, I closed the bathroom door and turned the knob to the hot water. I allowed for the water to gain its oh-so-loved heat while I stripped of my sticky, bar-smelling clothes.

I was your average, nothing-to-see-here, Doncaster lad. My eyes were the same, dull blue they were years ago, yet I had gained crinkles in the corners of them simply from the years I had lived. My hair was still the same shade, maybe a shade darker from the lack of sun I had here in London. It was better cut though, no longer the wannabe-Beiber I had decided to sport in 2010. Such a bad year for my hair, I thought aimlessly. I was still, to my dismay, short, my height reaching most peoples upper-neck. The one thing I had gained, the one visible pro to my aging, was that now I had more muscles to add to my frame,more meat on me to hopefully size me up so I didn’t look as much a munchin as I sometimes felt.

I shook my head, opening the shower door before I could think to harshly into my appearance. The water was hot, itching its way into my pores to remove the stench and shivers that came with working at a bar. It erased all the spilt booze, the people from the night prior that couldn’t seem to hold anything, from the contents of their stomachs to the persons latest debacle. I allowed myself to groan as my chilled hand skimmed over my dick, now pulsing with the blood that rushed to grasp the touch that was once there. I even gave in to the temptation, knowing I deserved a good wank from the night I had just had. I wasted no time as I grasped my pulsing length with my hand, falling into the all familiar rhythmic motion.

I brought my mind to the image of Megan Fox. Her breasts, her body, that amazing american accents, and her eyes. Her eyes were my favorite part of her, something about the light eyes to the dark complexion just made me throw in my cards. Halfway through thinking about her jaw-dropping blue eyes, I found the image in my head was changing that color to a startling clover green that seemed to perfectly match that of a certain bar worker. And in the blink of an eye, the whole imaged change, morphing into Harry. Before I could snap my brain back into the track of Megan Fox, my whole body convulsed into the pleasurable shivers of my orgasm. I came thinking about a guy, my head was beating with the question as I scrubbed the come off of my hand. Why Harry though? Yes, he was very attractive for a guy, but we were all but acquaintances. Why not have dirty dreams about Channing Tatum, or Douglas Booth? Why did I have to enjoy my orgasm thinking about Harry, the same Harry who I didn’t even know the surname of.

My mind was racing with the questions I didn't want to answer as I finished my shower. A quick scrub in my hair, a speedy run through of the soap over my body, and before I could seize the questions in my mind, I was turning the water off. I didn’t let myself dwell on the thoughts for too long as I took the towel off the ground, shaking my hair with the white fabric before wrapping it around my waist.

I couldn’t face the questions, the assumptions that I was changing sides, all because of a new-found bromance. Yes, Harry was bloody attractive, but that didn’t mean I was gay, right? I couldn’t just change my sexuality with a flip of a switch, with the new found friendship, if you could call it that, of a co-worker. Life just didn’t work like that. Not for me.

"I fucking hate you." I opened the door to a full fledged sneer from Zayn, his eyes narrowed from his place on the couch. Only this time, he was dressed, a pair of sweats and a loose tee covering his tattooed skin.

“Hate me for what, Zayniee?” I asked with false innocence. Zayn hated me for enough things to fill a list that could reach china and back, so guessing the one he was angry at me right now would be close to impossible. He could be furious because he finally found out that I drank from the milk carton, something that pissed him off especially. Or it could be that I never did my own laundry, that could be something worth fueling the fires of his anger. I could go on and on, but the look that was trained on me was slightly uncomfortable while I was still in my towel.

“Your goddam fuckward of a girlfriend.” My mind flashed to Harry and his Shrek reference as I moved to the kitchen counter to reach my hand into the open box of Lucky Charms. “You really need to do something about her. Dump her, call her, do something because I’m really fucking tired of having to wake up to turn off your fucking phone.” His words would have taken more effect if I wasn’t shoveling cereal into my mouth.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” I said around the mouthful of food I was currently crunching on, raising my eyebrows as I took one last handful to move my way to the couch. I was still aware of the towel secured around my waist, but Zayn was wearing a scowl to fierce to care about my indecency.

"I woke up to your bloody ringtone, so I doubt I’d be too happy.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing the remote to change the channel. He flipped through the stations aimlessly before he found what he wanted, simple cartoons.

“Baby got back is a classic, you uncultured swine!” I raised my voice, piercing the silence that the cartoon was filling. His eyes snapped to me, his already skin boiling glare intensifying to turn my skin to a bubbling pool of liquid hatred.

“Go suck a dick or something you twat.” He turned the volume up even louder, as if that was going to stop me and my pestering antics.

“Can you be my first then?” I laughed at how menacing he was beginning to look. If I didn’t know any better, I would be looking for the nearest weapon, but I knew that Zayn was nothing more than empty threats and play punches. Instead of making any more sassy comments to rile him up even more, I stuffed the rest of my breakfast into my mouth and allowed for the cereal to fill the space in my mouth that my words usually would.

“So how was your first night working?” Zayn asked, “Meet any hot chicks?” He turned to me, tuning the show out while he pressed the volume down. I motioned to my cheeks, puffy with my food, and he nodded to signal that he would, in fact, wait for my answer. I don't think either of us wanted me to try and talk with my mouth full.

I swallowed the last of the pieces, “It was tiring as fuck.” I couldn’t help but groan at the memories that encircled last night. “All the girls were either taken, emotional, or so drunk that I could have told them I was a rubbish bin and they would have believed me. The only girl worth my time was Danielle, but she’s no where near my type. Plus she had killer fashion sense.” That was one of the better memories from last night, how utterly gorgeous she looked in her outfit.

“Not this again.” He snarled, his hands flying into the air in defeat. “It’s always about the fashion. Dress this, belt that, shoe here and a cardigan there. I would love if you could talk about something while sporting it, because right now, you’re looking fit to run down the nudist runway.” He poked a rude finger towards my towel, which was now growing uncomfortable.

“Fine mister grumpy, I’ll go sport a dress.” Zayn groaned loud enough for the neighbors to be disturbed, turning his attention back to the cartoon while I stalked off into my room to change. I almost stopped to dig through the basket of clean clothes, but then sided against it only because that would be yet another thing to add to the ‘Why We Hate Louis Tomlinson’ list, which was long enough already.

Instead, I went straight to the pile of clothes that had consumed my corner. I tried not to think of what must lay beneath the heavy pile, focusing my energy to find something that I could wear without smelling like a rotting corpse. I found a pair of grey sweats and a navy shirt that didn’t smell too rancid and called it good, finding a pair of, thankfully, clean boxers to pull on with the outfit. I looked in the mirror, and in horror, found that my hair was what Zayn’s bedhead was, and I was quick to find a beanie to cloak my hair with. A grey beanie covered my frizz, bidding me of the horrible hairdo I would to be wearing without it. I wasn’t going to be doing anything before work, so I wasn’t going to get properly dressed till ten minutes prior. Being early was for kiss-ups.  But if I did plan on being dressed in the future, I would need to seriously consider cleaning my room out and doing about ten loads of laundry just to turn my wardrobe back to its former glory.

After seeing that I looked half presentable, I would need to shave soon, I walked back into the open room that was circulating with the heat that never seemed to reach my room. Zayn was still lounging out in his spot in the couch, a blanket draped over his legs as he stared blankly at the screen. It turned to commercials, and his head flickered down to his lap, where his phone was being tinkered with.

“You want some tea?” I said as I shuffled my way into the cold tiled kitchen. “I’m about to put the kettle on.” I took the kettle down from the hook on the cabinet, filling it up with water from the sink before placing it on the stove burner.

“Yes please. Normal kind.” He was obviously busy, so I didn’t press my sass as I pulled down our two cups and placed the correct teabags into each mug. I had claimed a big blue mug that I had taken from my old home before I moved out and Zayn had taken one of our Zayn-doodled white mugs with his designs on it as his given cup.

It would be a moments time before the kettle would sound, so I placed my elbows on the counter with my hands supporting my head as I watched Zayn. Not creepy at all, right? I just envied how at peace with everything he was. Everything but me, but that was a given. He was lazy, yes, but he has also been more of a ‘go with the flow’ kind of person, ever since I met him. He would much rather watch crap telly all day than hang out with people, and he never really cared for the opinions of others. Which seemed nice, he had the qualities which I constantly ached, but I guess that’s what made us a good pair.

I was shaken from my trance by the harsh sound of the kettle, whistling with its annoying tuned pitch. I took it off the heat before the sound could amplify its sound, pouring it into the mugs by the side. We were both drinking Yorkshire, my favorite and Zayn close second. Why it wasn’t his first I shall never understand, but he says his first place is held by an American brand he had while over there on vacation that he can’t find over here in the Kingdom. I finished pouring the liquid and set the kettle down, taking my mug with no sugar and his with one over to our regarded places.

“Thanks.” Zayn made his grabby hands towards his mug, a childish antic that he never seemed to drop. “By the way, your girlfriend will not stop calling. Either answer her or I will, because by now she’s already starting to drive down here.” He took no time in drilling me with the thing that I had so desperately tried to avoid.

“I'll get around to it.” I shrugged as I wrapped my cold hands around the warm mug. I didn’t feel in the mood to deal with her antics today. I felt groggy and tired, the two very emotions that would set Eleanor off on her rampage of words. I could have talked to her yesterday, but today was a no go and would probably end in a battle of the voices over the phone. Not good.

Yet the second reason for me to be ignoring her was that I had lost the spark, the fireworks that used to light up above us seemed to have lost their flame. She was no longer the bubbly, smiley girl I had fallen in love with, morphing into a bitchy and condescending overlord rather than a girlfriend. She turned from lover to someone who I could use to get a good, drunk fuck out of. An escape from my life if you will. Moving only put that into more of a spotlight, it showed me how I really didn’t need her and her bossiness anymore.

“I can tell you don’t fancy her anymore.” Zayn knew, he always knew, and I gave a slight nod. “So when are you going to get your head out your arse and dump her?” He said his words with such causality, his words ghosting over the skin of his tea as he sipped at the warming liquid.

“It’s not that easy though.” I tried to reason, more with myself than him, that I could put this off even further. “We’re just going through a rough patch, is all.” I shrugged, the casual movement hiding how bright my cheeks were getting at the blatant lie.

“You two have been going through a rough patch since you started dating. You hate her, shes addicted to you. No part of that is a relationship.” Leave it to Zayn to bring in the reasoning that I forever lacked. My better half, you could say.

“Not true.” I was being childish, I was trying to convince myself of something that was such a lie that anyone could point it out. But I was stubborn.

“You know I’m right, Lou. You two never fit.” His eyes were full of knowledge, like he ran a relationship counseling office instead of being a stay at home bum. Even though I was trying so desperately to deny him and his truths, I knew deep down, that he had a point. Eleanor was clingy, Louis addicted girl who never fully understood the term ‘personal space’, and I was simply looking for someone to love me and fuck me when I needed it. “So when are you going to dump her?” He repeated his question once more, and I found that I was actually thinking about the proposal instead of shutting it down.

"I don't even know anymore, Zayn." I groaned as my hands went to hide my face and regretful cheeks. “I mean, we had a spark in the beginning, I knew we did, but now its just not there.”

“So?” I cracked my fingers just enough to see that his eyebrows were cocked in a very Zayn way, the way that told me he found no explanation in his question. It was a look that I Constantly found sent in my direction, a look that  I saw more often than not.

“I just don't know what to do!” I squeaked from behind my fingers as I closed them again. I had relationship issues enough, figuring out when to dump Eleanor would just be too much for my immature mind to handle. Even during my inner turmoil, I could hear that Zayn was shaking with quiet, horribly hidden laughter. “Don’t laugh at me you twat.” I uncovered my face to see that his was turning a shade of red, his lips pressed firmly together as they tried to stop his laughter.

“Lou its literally as simple as calling her and breaking up with her.” He stopped in his acts as he let his laughs flow out of him in short, fist covered bursts. “You make it seem like you’re telling her that you’re pregnant. And even that isn’t too hard.

“But what if-” I tried to sneak out my reasons but Zayn was having none of my teenaged problems.

“Louis William Tomlinson stop making pansy-ass excuses!” He groaned with too much force, his hand falling against the couch cushion. “This is no where near mission impossible. Even if you do make things absolutely horrid, you’re still in south London. She’s too cheap to waste the gas money it would take to slap you.” Again, I found my mind swerving its way back to Harry and how he was talking about gas money and how much it would be wasting just to drive the five minutes to work. I shook the boy out of my head and instead allowed myself to focus on that Zayn, as stupid and annoying as he was, had a point. She spent too much of her money on Starbucks to waste any extra cash on a drive just to slap me and my idiotic ways.

“Could you, maybe, do it with me?” I could feel my cheeks warming with the blush of how utterly pathetic I sounded. Here I was, socialite Louis Tomlinson, afraid of a stupid phone call that would do me nothing but some good and maybe something to be irritated about.

“Of course Lou,” He reached to scrub my hair with his hand, “It’s not like you could do it alone anyway. You’d whine too much to dial the number.” He finished his point along with the last of his tea, ushering me along as I pulled the phone out of my pocket. It was that that I realized that I had barely touched my own mug, the liquid probably gone cold by now

I unlocked my phone, the number rising to ten missed calls and seventeen missed messages. The scoff that emanated from me wasn’t to be stopped, it was completely absurd how many failed attempts she had at trying to contact me. Couldn’t she take a hint? I rolled my eyes at the large numbers, all of which I would need to delete later, before moving to dial her number so I could get the well-needed break up out of the way.

“You ready for this Tommo?” He laughed childishly, like he would let me walk out of this now. Another eye roll was produced as I hit send, the annoying dial tone switching to speaker to make my heart beat rise. It was a warning bell of sorts, and it only took three rings before the call was received and her shrill voice was piercing my ears.

“What the actual fuck Louis William Tomlinson?” She shrieked through the small phone speakers, Zayn cringing noticeably from my side. Of course he thought this was going to be a mature, adult conversation. I knew differently. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since this morning! I tried at nine in the morning, and its fucking four in the afternoon and you still didn’t-”

“I had a late night, okay?” I cut her off, knowing that if I allowed for her to continue, she would arise every issue she had with me in her very wordy, breathless sentence. Her voice was beginning to annoy me, even from four seconds of her talking, I realised the shrillness was something  I didn’t miss at all. “And we need to have a talk.”

“We sure as hell need to have a talk Louis, it’s been a whole week and you haven’t texted or-”

“I said I needed to talk to you. This time, I mean just me, as in one way conversation.” I gritted my teeth, the pressure making my jaw clench. Zayns hand snaked to my knee, giving me a reassuring squeeze that was paired with a smile. The phone was a dead weight in my hand, burning my cheek to where it was pressed. I loathed this more than anything I’ve ever had to do, and Zayn knew that.

“Fine, then go on. Start talking.” If I knew anything, I knew that the quaking in her voice was a sign that she already knew what I was going to tell her. We both shared the one characteristic, the characteristic that we knew but really tried not to. She knew what I was going to tell her, she just really didn’t want it to happen.

“I think we both know we don’t really work well together, that we don't fit.” Just state it out Lou, I thought to myself as I allowed to blink away the emotion pooling in my eyes. Why I was getting like this was beyond my logical thinking, if I was to cry it would have been a while back when I realized our relationship to be over. “We’ve been over for a while, and even when we were together, we fought. The time away from you has shown me how sick of it I am, our clashing, so I’ve decided that we should just sort everything out.”

“So you’re breaking up with me,” She paused, her voice ghostly calm for a person who usually breathed emotion, “Over a fucking phone call?”

“You could say that, I guess.” I inhaled a breath deep enough to clear my head, the new air circulating the air that was dripping with me over-reactions. Zayn could sense my internal turmoil, his face giving me a small sense of sympathy that he usually didn’t wear. A lot seemed to be changing in my life. “I feel its for the best, moving on and all. You’ll be happier with someone else, someone who you can see everyday. And I think I will be too.”

“Louis William Tomlinson don’t you do this-” I disconnected the call before she could plead her case even more, before she could try and convince me of why I was fucking things up for myself. Once the line was dead, the heat in the phone seemed to disappear and I pulled it away from my face to stare at the black screen that was being held in my hand.

It was over. All over. No more expectations of nightly phone calls, no mandatory birthday gifts I would pick up the night before. Hell, I wouldn’t even be expected to attend weekly parties anymore. It was all over, I was a free man now. And it had all happened in a short, seven minute phone call. Amazing how things can change that quickly.

“I told you it wouldn’t be too hard.” His face contorted into a lazy smirk has his hand clasped my back. It pushed out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding, a breath that sent out all the bad emotions and allowed for me to take a renewing breath. Invigorating, I thought with the twist of my lips. “You’re a free man Tommo!”

“I guess I am.” My lips spread into a larger smile of realization as I stood to stretch out my locked joints. The feeling was something I hadn't felt in years, the feeling of freedom. I could go out and shag every girl in a ten foot radius if I so pleased, go to a stripper show if I got the inkling to. The new emotion gave me a sort of energy, something that coursed through me as I overstepped Zayns outstretched legs to go into the kitchen. “I have an hour to waste as a newly free man before I have to be a responsible working man, so I think I’m going to go treat myself.” My smile grew exceedingly large as I grabbed my wallet, the phone an airy weight in my hand.

“Just don't get yourself killed.” I could practically feel the eye roll lacing his words as I skipped into room to change. Sweats were an improper outfit for my emotion, and with work rolling its way into my future, I decided that I would have to change. Sorting through the pile on my floor, I decided on a pair of black jeans that I rolled to my ankles and a black scoop-necked tee that I didn’t realize I had in my possession. With a once over in the mirror,  I decided to keep the beanie because the air would probably be a bit nippy out and my hair probably wasn’t ace. My face looked fine, and with a few livening pats I was making my way out the door.

“I’ll text you when I’m coming home, but I recommend not waiting up for me.” I stuffed my phone into the back pocket as I grabbed my coat off the back of the couch to put my wallet in. Zayn gave me a dulled nod as he was focused on the telly, his vibe already tuning me out in favor of the hypnotizing show. I didn’t mind, hell, he could slap me and my mood wouldn’t falter. Freedom was a liberating emotion, literally, and I planned to spend my first night out with a full beer fixed into my hand.

I pushed my arms though the jacket sleeves as I toppled my way to the shoe mat. I took a small second to think before pulling on a pair of my black vans, my unsocked feet slipping in with little restraint as I tied the laces into quick bows. With both my feet clad in shoes, I gave an unnoticed wave to Zayn before scooting out the door. The click was a comforting sound as I zipped up my jacket to stuff my hands into the pockets, my step holding a little more confidence.

My mind slipped into itself as I started to plan out my night. I was going to be too sober for just one beer to do the job, a couple of shots barely making an impact into my night of a long awaited freedom. I was going to need to get all the liquor my hands could grasp, maybe a hot girl here or there to enhance my night. Thinking about my night to come made a sudden rush of blood go to my crotch and it put a little fault in my confident steps, but I continued nonetheless. Maybe I could even get out of work today to spend my time drinking my way into bliss. But I doubt that would happen.

“Louis?” My name snapped me out of my of head as it was called from down the hall. I stopped, turning to see no other than Harry. The way my name was said should have been clue enough, his raspy, deep voice pronouncing my name like no one else seemed to. “Louis!” He said it with more excitement this time, starting a slow jog to get to where I was on the other end of the hall.

He was dressed in the same color I was, only his jeans seemed to be sewn to his legs and his chest was clad in a black button down, the top two buttons undone to show his necklaces. His abnormally large feet were fitted in dark grey dress shoes that didn’t seem fit to be going to work at a bar, but he looked good regardless.

“Hey Harry.” My words were icky with my happiness, my smile wicked and troublesome. He seemed to ignore my obvious happiness with a slightly raised brow as he took my side.

“So I guess you’re heading over to work early.” He stated it like it was the only thing he was sure of in his life. “Great minds think alike, right?” I gave him a cocked brow only to see his lips moved into his usual smirk. It was funny, I thought Zayn smirked a lot, but Harry seemed to have taken the bar to a whole new level.

“I’m not going to work, but I’m going to a bar. Maybe even our lovely bar.” I waited for Harry to do his awkward half-jog to where I was before we both started to descend the stairs. The elevator would just be awkward in my mind, and I was happy that Harry went pliantly when I directed us towards the stairs.

“Why? Is something wrong?” He sounded interested for someone who I had just started working with, but it did seem to fit his good-samaritan personality to worry about a relative stranger.

“It’s the complete opposite actually. Somethings gone right.” I let out a small laugh at how good it felt to be able to say it , “But I’ll tell you later, once i’ve had a few drinks, because you’ll probably hear it anyway.” I had full intentions on getting drunk, whether at work or not.

“Or you could tell me now,” I looked to see him wearing a shit-eating grin that only asked for trouble, “I’m fine with hearing what’s making you so happy /now/ instead of waiting till you’re intoxicated.”

I took one last look at the innocence written on his face before giving in, “Well me and my girlfriend, well now ex girlfriend, Eleanor, just broke up.” He made a small squeak of disapproval, “No, its good I swear. She was like this giant weight on me, and now we’re through, it feels like I can breath again. So, in honor of my new freedom, I’m going to get drunk and take a girl home.”

“Are you planning to drink on the job?” He opened the door and held it for me.

“Probably. And then some.” I shrugged it off. Alcohol was one thing I was not ashamed of.

“Drinking on the job, naughty, naughty.” Harry clicked his tongue in his mouth, purposely ignoring my blatant comment about ‘taking home a girl’. Which I understood,  I had just put him in an awkward position.

“I think it seems half acceptable, seeing as we work in a place that serves alcohol.” I shrugged again, stuffing my hands into my pockets against the cold. “At least I’m not bringing booze to a childs birthday party, then you can scold me.”

“So, if you work in a clothing store, it’s acceptable to wear some of the clothes while you work?” He raised a brow at me and he knew at that he had won over the argument.

“Okay,” I rolled my eyes, “/Maybe/ you have a point. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to get pleasantly wasted.” I ignored his frustrated whine, rounding a corner and seeing the bar in the distance.

“If you want, you could always come back to mine. We are going to the space building,” My ears perked up at his suggestion, willing for him to continue, “We’ve got plenty of alcohol, mostly because Niall and his Irish personality require enough for a small party at all times. I’d much rather you get drunk under my amazing supervision than at work.” I gave him a strange look as he ran a hand through his windblown hair, the curls more out of control because of the wind.

“Are you asking me on a date?” I raised a brow and gave him yet another funny look. I wasn’t really expecting to be asked out on a date after knowing someone for two days. And having a date with /Harry/ was a little shocking. I mean, i’ve had my fair share of gay advances, but just not by a gay friend who I barely knew.

“No, no, no,” He blushed slightly before scowling at nothing in particular, “What is with you straight guys? I’m just asking you to hang out, not suck my dick. Jesus. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want sex from every person with a dick.” There was an uneasiness in his voice that I couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason to.

“Sorry,” I muttered, turning my face downwards so he didn’t see the enormous blush that was filling cheeks. Leave it to me to come across as a homophobic prick. “Sure, we can hang out. I’d be game for that, as long as you don’t mind my drunk blabbering about everything I’ve tried to bottle up. Zayn always tells me I’m an open drunk, that’s why he doesn’t want me to be drunk at our place.” If he was going to have me over at his flat, drunk off my rocker, then he might as well have some forewarning.

“Why wouldn’t he want you ranting about your life?” I could tell he was grateful for the subject change. One thing I found out about Harry, he was curious about /everything/.

“I guess after the years of knowing me, he gets kind of sick of me ranting about everything. Plus the last time I was drunk, I tried to kiss him, and that’s yet another reason why he doesn’t like me being drunk around him. He says I try to take out my ‘sexual frustration’ on him.” I air quoted, “Bottom line is he likes me to be sober around him and his modelness.”

“I can understand where he’s coming from, drunk happenings are usually mistakes.” He pulls keys out of his pocket as we near the bar. “Niall has had his fair share, and when I say fare share, I mean enough encounters to challenge a prostitute.” He unlocked the door, holding it open for me like the proper gentleman he was.

“You two are early.” Danielle greeted us as she rounded a corner, her hands full with stacks of glasses for the bar. She was in yet another spectacular outfit, a black gown that reached her ankles with a seafoam necklace and heels of the same color.

“I love your dress, Dani,” I commented as I shrugged off my coat, “The seafoam was a nice touch.” I dropped it behind the bar and went to pour myself a draft. I finished with my glass, taking a sip before turning around to a room of sticky silence. Danielle was wearing a large grin, while Harry seemed to be frozen with a look of confusion plastered on his face.

“At least /someone/ around here notices how hard I try.” She threw an obvious glare towards Harry before setting the glasses down on the bar countertop. “Put those away for me boys, I'll be back.” She left us to the stacks before going into the back room. I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me, and continued to sip on my beer. Harry stayed in his look of question, staring at me like I had suddenly sprouted three heads.

“You...you know fashion?” He asked with very obvious confusion.

“Yeah, I do,” His face didn’t dull in emotion, “Come on Harry, you look like I just killed your Gran. I just know fashion, it’s not that surprising.” I shrugged and took another sip of my draft, willing for the alcohol to take me already.

“You just…” Harry trailed off, looking at the busy road outside the window before snapping himself out of his little trance and moving to put the glasses where they should go. I put down my glass as well, moving over to help with the stack. At such close proximity I found myself looking over Harry like I had to Danielle. I noticed the different browns he had mixed into his curly, wicked mane, and how he would stick his tongue out or lick his lips at random points of time.

“I just what, Harry? Come on, Harry-” I let my sentence hang off, realizing that I had no clue what his last name was.

“It’s Styles. Harry Styles.” He filled in the space and I silently thanked him. He had strange, mind reading abilities. “And it’s just that gay guys like fashion. Well, most stereotypical ones. Straight guys are supposed to be drunken football thugs.”

I let out an easy laugh, “So you like fashion then?”

“Realise that I said stereotypical,” He let out an easy laugh similar to mine but with a more mocking tone, “I would much rather go naked, my birthday suit, than wear any fashion shit. Its just so boring, like ‘cool beans dude, you can wear a shirt that costs $500.” He paused in his stacking to look me in the eyes with an evil glint of mischief in them, “But music, that’s something that gets my fancy.”

“Oh really?” I raised an eyebrow at him, a challenge that he took with a wink.

“Yes, really.” He continued to stack. “Music is something that I would devote my life too.”

“I guess we both have something to learn from each other.” I smirked before pulling out my phone and setting it next to my beer. “Pull up your favorite artists, I’ll pull up my winter fashion folder.”

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay sorry guys. I'm starting a new story (I'm more than that) and not spending as much time on this one so sorry about how short it is. I hope it's not that bad, I feel like its getting worse but oh well.

Maybe he was being a little too the point, a little blunt, he didn't know. Louis sat questioning himself as Harry flicked through his iPhone, his eyebrows scrunched together into an attractive face. Weird, Louis thought, I'm commenting on a guys attractive face. He shook his head to erase the comments he's making, focusing on pulling out his fashion folders. Louis always kept up to date on the seasons new inventions, he kept a folder of all the ones he liked. He worried though, would Harry laugh at the full folder or not?

  
"Okay so this is You by Atmosphere. It's not philosophical, but the beat is good." Harry offered Louis a headphone, the other already in Harry's ear. Louis complied willingly, placing it in his ear. Harry pressed play and Louis ear was flooded with a beginning beat. "So now, show me what you love."

  
"You're going to laugh." Louis let out a small laugh. Harry rolled his eyes, snatching Louis phone before Louis could protest.

  
"If I had a pound for every time someone told that to me, I'd have a pound. I've never laughed at anyone for something they love, that's called being a dick." Harry flicked through the pictures, looking them over.

  
"Well that's comforting." He remarked sarcastically. Harry shot him a glare out of the corner of his eye.

  
"These are weird. I couldn't imagine seeing a girl walking down the street in this." He pivoted the phone to show Louis a dress suit made out of clear plastic and black plastic covering the boobs and crotch area. Louis thought it was okay, clear plastic was making a comeback with the designers.

  
"It's called a fashion show, no one would actually wear that in public unless for a photoshoot. This is only for designers to show off new ideas. The people who actually make clothes you wear have different shows than these ones." Louis finished his beer with one last gulp. Harry nodded, continuing to flip through. He didn't show any look of disgust, and judgmental side glances that would have made Louis worry.

  
"And this song is That's All by Genisis. I just bought this one so I can't tell you if it's philosophical or not, but just like the one prior its a good beat." Harry added as the song started. He like Harry's music tastes so far, he would have to steal Harry's phone for a whole library listen too. Danielle was helping a couple who had came in early, allowing them their peace in the corner of the bar. It was weird, this bar was completely different from any others he had worked at or went too. They had good staff, good alcohol, people kept to their own places, and no one inturupted you mid conversation.

  
"Yeah, I'm more a birthday suit kinda guy" He handed Louis back his phone. "All those look uncomfortable, and those models were skinny as fuck. Three pizzas for a month and they might cast a shadow. I like people who won't turn to dust when I hug them." Harry smirked, taking out his headphone and allowing Louis to listen to it while Harry got himself a pint.

  
"Being normally sinny is the new fat for them. You have to be a skeleton." Louis laughed. It was true, models were disgustingly skinny. Louis couldn't imagine being with anyone that skinny, and tall too. Most of the models were taller than his 5'9 self.

  
"And reason number gazillion why guys are better. More muscle, not as many bones jutting out." He shivered for comical effect. "Girls are just walking canvas'."

  
"You like blokes, I like girls. Simple as that." Harry shrugged at him, sipping at the alcohol.

  
"Its never that simple, Lou." Harry looked him dead in the eye with a calm expression. "Nothings ever that simple."

 

* * *

  
"Thanks Dani!" Harry called behind them, waving his hand at her. She had agreed to lock up for them afterwards, allowing them to leave after they had cleaned up. Louis had refrained from much alcohol during the night. He was over reacting about te whole break up, he had noticed halfway through the night. He had wanted this for as long as they had been together, and he finally had it. He didn't need to fuzz the memory with cheap beer, no thank you.

  
"So we still golden on going back to your place?" Louis stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and Harry did the same. How the hell do you have that much space in those jeans to fit your hands, Louis asked himself. Harry's pants were tight, but not skin tight like the jeans from the night before. "And I think I'm going to skip the drinking."

  
"Still golden, mate. You can meet Liam and Niall. Liam is the judgmental buzz cut guy, but don't worry about him. He's a puppy dog, he just thinks the buzz makes him look tough. Niall is the bubbly Irish lad, he's harmless. Unless your any form of food, then your dead. He has quiet a stomach, that boy. I'm happy you changed your mind, I would hate to go home and see that Niall drank all our booze."

  
"Are they...you know..." Louis was unable to form his words into a sentence that didn't make him sound like a homophobic douche. He thought he sounded like one of them often when he was around Harry. Louis just didn't want to make Harry uncomfortable, make him feel any less than an equal.

  
"Gay?" Harry offered and Louis nodded curtly, "Nah. Well maybe, Liam is questioning himself. The blokes mind is innocent, he probably just wants to find love. Niall is as straight as a winding road when he's drunk. He'll hit on anything with two legs of you get him buzzed enough. When he's not drunk, once in a millennium, he won't shut up about girls. So you two might get along." Harry smirked at his commentary.

  
"Oh shove it where the sun shines." He shot back with a cackle of laughter. It had taken two shifts and he was already close with Harry. He seemed to fit perfectly into the boys side and he would count Harry as a friend.

  
"That's a new saying." Harry looked to his side at Louis who smiled brightly, even in the four am light. The were entering the lobby floor and Harry yet again held the door open for Louis. Louis felt awkward everytime he did so, having to give him a small smile of thanks for something he could do for himself.

  
"Im full of surprises Hazza." Hazza, really? He thought silently. Where the hell did that come from? He hadn't even put any thought into going Harry a nickname, and this one just slipped out? Weird.

  
"Hazza?" Harry scoffed at the nickname while giving Louis a sideways glance, "Seriously? Hazza, of all things?"

  
"What, do you not like it?" Louis dropped all his jokes, truly wondering if Harry hated the nickname. If he did, Louis was bound to find another one to use on the younger boy, calling him Harry all the time was going to get old.

  
"No, it's...it's fine." Harry's cheeks turned the red of a cherry lollipop. Louis pretended not to notice the charming gesture as he smacked the up arrow on the elevator. It took a few seconds before the ding chimed and the metallic doors opened robotically. He allowed Harry to press the button for their floor while he pulled out his phone. Zayn wasn't going to be up early, he could bet on that, but if he did wake up at noon and didn't see Louis he might care.

  
**Going to get drunk w/ coworker xx**

  
He slipped it back into his pocket, stealing a glance at Harry. He was leaning against the metal wall, neck stretched as he looked up at something on the ceiling. His Adam's apple was sticking out quite obviously, and Louis could describe it as cute. The doors choked out another ding before they rolled opened. Harry being Harry allowed Louis off first. Louis rolled his eyes, Harry giving him a lazy shrug in response.

  
"Liam may be up. He's an early waker, always goes for a run around this time. Niall won't be, he's going to out cold. Again, don't mind Liam's I'm-big-and-bad act, he's a teddy bear." Harry gave his door a good shake and it swung open. This time Harry went first, Louis falling in tail. "Liam shares with Niall when Niall isn't drunk. When he is, he takes the couch." Harry whispered as he shook off his shoes. Louis did the same, trying to be as quiet as he could.

  
Their flat was a guys flat to put it simply. Football banners hung everywhere, mis matched furniture and a big tv in the corner of the room. He saw the silhouette of what Harry confirmed by hushed whisper as Niall under a big duvet he probably dragged out of his room. The tv was on, and Liam was wide awake and watching it. His attention was diverted, a big grin sent towards Harry while Liams scrunched brows were sent Louis way.

  
"Whose he? Your lastest fuck toy?" Liam laughed quietly, moving Nialls legs to stand and meet Louis with an outstretched hand. He wore black sweats and a white shirt, a lazy look that Louis would be wearing if he hadn't been working.

  
"No Liam, just a friend." Harry said it in a certain tone and Liam haulted with his pestering. "This is Louis, from work."

  
"Oh that Louis!" Recognition flashed in his eyes. "Well it's nice to meet you. We've heard good things." Louis shook his hand with a smooth smile on his face. Liam had a firm grip, too firm for Louis liking.

  
"Oh shut up, you sound like my dad." Harry shuffled over to their open kitchen, similar to Louis own. "We're just going out on the-"

  
"Harry 's that you?" Niall stirred on the couch, his blonde hair peaking out from under the blanket.

  
"Yes it's me you drunk lump. Go back to sleep." Harry said in his soothing tone. "He's usually hard as hell to get back to sleep." He whispered to Louis

  
"Who ya talking to Harry?" He dragged our Harry's name in his mouth like salt water taffy. He stirred even more under the blanket, groaning loudly like the thought of waking up would kill him

  
"Just my friend Louis from work." Harry sighed, turning to Louis and mouthing 'sorry'.

  
"Sorry for what?" Louis leaned in to whisper his response. Liam was still watching them both, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes flickering between the two.

  
"It's Louis? Repunzle Louis?" Niall shuffled into the room. He was only wearing a pair of blue boxers, his milky white skin complying well with his dyed blonde hair. Louis didn't feel that awkward around the mad, Zayn wasn't shy about not wearing a majority of his clothes.

  
"Repunzle Louis?" Louis eyes moved from Harry to Niall, asking for answers for the nickname. He wasn't blonde, he didn't have freakishly long blonde hair, and he didn't live locked away in a tower. So what could he and a Disney princess have in common.

  
"Yeah, your scared and Harry's going to-"

  
"Bring you outside!" Harry grasped his arm and all but towed him away from his two flat mates. Niall huffed, a pretty loud huff too, while Liam just shuffled back to the couch. Harry continued to tug Louis arm until they were past the sliding glass doors and onto his patio.

  
London was still asleep, most people sleeping in on their Sundays. Harry had the same patio space Louis did, big enough for a good ten people with a little room to move around. They had four white plastic lawn chairs in one corner with two tables of the same material and a few plants shoved into one area. It looked neat enough, neater than Louis'.

  
"So now you've meet the dynamic duo. The two vains of my existance." He laughed, falling down into a chair and beckoning for Louis to do the same. He complys, ignoring Harrys childish smirk.

  
"They don't seem that bad. And what's with my nickname, what's that all about?" Louis moved his chair to fade Harry. Harry looked around briefly before pulling one of the tables for their feet to rest on.

  
"Yeah, they're pretty chill. They're my solid foundation, no matter how tall I grow."

  
"Well thank you, John green, for making your philosophical appearance." Louis sasses, "but you still didn't tell me about the nickname."

  
Harry chewed in his lip whole he thought, "if I tell you you'll freak out."

  
"Try me. I can take more than I look like I can." That sounded dirtier than Louis had intended, but oh well.

  
"You have to wait till I'm done before you butt in, okay?" Louis nodded and Harry continued. "The other day when I first met you I came home and blabbed, being me of course I did. I talked about you nonstop until Liam asked me of you were gay, being the mr realistic he is. I realized you weren't. I said you could change, you could turn gay if I eased you in.

  
"Niall thought that was hilarious, said it compared to a Disney flick. He said your were repunzle. You needed someone to take you out of your safe zone to show you how happy you could be. But how the hell could I do that? I can barley get you to come over to my place without you thinking I'm going to blow you. I can't blame you, thats usually what most guys think. But anyway, when you told me about your love of fashion and your family my heart just shredded up and floated your way. The sad thing was you couldn't catch it, you didn't know you had too.

  
"And I know it's early, we've only known each other for two days. Yet Im falling in love with you and your not even looking for houses in my country or even on my planet! I'm selling here in Britain and your looking for a place on Pluto. I keep hoping you'll ease out of it, you'll change, but I'm tired of waiting. Two days is short, I know, but I'm falling for you and I want to know if you'll catch me." Harry sucks in a deep breathe from talking so fast. Louis stared back with disbelieve.

  
He just said he loves you. Loves you. Like love loves you. Two days and he's already in love with you, imagine what will come out of a week. What if he sees he can't change me. I am straight, I've always been. I like girls, not blokes. He can't change me, that's impossible. I can't just turn gay. But what if I am? I remember all the times I've commented on his hands, his face, his legs or his fahion. I do that to girls, what I'm like Liam, what if I'm questioning my sexuality? I've only been with two people, Julia in third grad and Eleanor. Neither of those worked out, so what if I was just going after the wrong people?

  
"Louis? I just poured my heart out, are you going to say anything?" Harry's eyes were pleading, big puppy dog eyes that Louis just couldn't stand to look at any longer.

  
"I have to go. I'm sorry." Louis rushed out, hands shaking as he slid open the door. He averted his eyes from the two guys who watched him flee. His shoes couldn't slip on quick enough, and he looked at the glass door one last time and saw Harry with his arms wrapped around his chest staring back at him. Louis could see the sharp spears of pain, the sickening poision of sadness in the grass green eyes that wouldn't let go of his gaze. Harry gave one small, one slight head shake of disaprovale before he turned and walked back out onto the patio.

  
Louis could feel his own heart being stomped on, and before he could turn back to Harry he swung open the door. Louis was a dick, no Harry was the dick. He knew Louis was straight yet he just told him about his love. Who does that? Just Harry supposedly. Why now? If he waited it would have been much better. But now is just horrible timing.

  
Louis unlocked his own door and all but took off his own feet while he tore at the shoes. Zayn was still asleep, the flat was dark and he had to place his hands on the wall to guide him to his own room. He turned the knob to his room and stripped down to his boxers, the way he usually slept, as he crawled into his bed.

  
His mind was racing and his heart threatening to jump out of his chest. Why in the hell would Harry do this? Why now, why after two fucking days? Yes, Louis enjoyed his new friend, but how could it escalate this quickly? It wasn't like Louis was going after Harry or anything, so why did he like Louis?

  
He fell asleep with all these questions racing through his mind like children with caffeinated sugar. And one other question.

  
Why did Louis feel the same way?


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry POV**

  
Just as he had expected. Louis was going to flip shit and just leave. Liam was right, he should have waited before he spread his heart out for Louis. But what could he do, Harry had always worn his heart on his sleeve no matter how many times he got hurt. He should change, being the big romantic he was, but Harry knew he would just be hurt some other way.

  
He rubbed his face before stepping back into the flat where two pairs of eyes looked back at him, sympathetic like his gran was just ran over. He glared unpleasantly at them both, scuffing his feet on the way to the kitchen. He yanked out a whiskey bottle and unscrews the cap, pressing the cool glass to his lips as he sent the gasoline like liquid down his throat.

  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Liam finally spoke up from his place on the couch. Both Niall and Liam had learnt the hard way, don't corner Harry into talking about his feelings or he will really explode. Either he will talk about it or not, prying will do nothing but bad.

  
"Not at all. I'm just going to drink." Harry held the bottle up over his head so Liam could see it, responding with an exaggerating sigh.

  
"You know you shouldn't-"

  
"Li, I just told the guy who is probably the most handsome and chizled guy in the world that I want to make him gay. How the fuck else am I supposed to deal? Watch fucking cake boss at five in the morning? No fucking thank you." Harry stomped to his room, ending his stress-releasing rant as he slammed his door with a little extra force.

  
It felt good, yelling, but not so good when he realized he yelled at Liam. He was the sweetest most down to earth guy Harry had ever been graced with and all he wanted to do was help, but Harry just yelled at him for it. Great.

  
Harry's room wasn't anything special, just a bed with black covers and white pillows, a nightstand and lamp, a dresser, and a few shelves for some books. His most prized possession, his iPod, sat neatly on its doc. He clicked through to his playlist marked 'angry' and hit play. The Loser Wins by Atmosphere floods his room as he cranked up the volume.

  
He took to cleaning up his floor, getting a nice big stack ready to be cleaned. He found his phone, dead of course, a notebook, an old pair of headphones, and a deflated football he ended up throwing out. He made his bed, adding the decorative blanket at the foot of the bed. His film looked good, the bottle of whiskey empty when he finally finished. With one side glance at his clock he saw it was 6:44, around an hour since he stormed out. He should get some sleep, but he didn't have a shift tonight so he could just catch up on his sleep then.

  
He turned off his music, the loud sound stopping abruptly as he could now hear the voices. One was obviously Niall's, he could pick him out in a crowd. One he implies to be Liam, but there was still one unaccounted for voice. It was male, that was sure, but he didn't know him. They were laughing and talking, so he must have been a friend.

  
Harry slowly opened the door, checking to see he was presentable and not covered in grime. Yea, he confirmed, it was another guy. A guy with a big quiff, too big for normal people.

  
"Oh my god, Zayn that's too funny. How did you get away with it?" Liam's laughter died down while Niall was still going strong in the middle of the couch, rolling around next to Liam with a red face. Zayn. Didn't Harry know him from somewhere?

  
"I didn't know we were having company." Harry slurred, unaware of how drunk he actually was.

  
"Oh hey Harry." Liam said, looking him up and down with a shake of the head. "Yeah, we'll this is Zayn. He just stopped by to chat and I didn't think you'd be out. He's Louis roommate." So that's where Harry knew him from.

  
He didn't look the same up close as he did from far away. He was from middle eastern decent, his skin darker than Harry's. His eyes were liquid candy, they were like gems. He had a nice, soothing smile that he directed towards Harry's drunk self.

  
"Oh. Did he tell you anything about me? Anything from today?" Harry plopped down in the reclining chair opposite from him. Liam was uncomfortable, Niall had stopped laughing and had his eyes flickering from Harry to Zayn and then to Liam. Zayn just looked at ease, like he had no worries in the world, which ticked Louis off.

  
"He said youre a friend from work, he didn't tell me much." Zayn said simply, "Nah, he was passed out when I woke up." Zayn shifted in his chair.

  
"Oh okay. So how so you two know each other?" Harry wanted to divert the attention that was placed on him. His heart hurt even more. Louis should have said something, something more than 'just a friend from work'. But now that Harry has just screwed everything up, he would probably be referred to as 'that gay guy who made Louis find a different job'. Thank the good lord it was a Monday, and the bar was closed. Wednesday though, that's when he was to go back and face Louis.

  
"From the youth arts center." Liam blushed and looked down at his lap. "I had finished dance and saw him skateboarding. We just started talking after that."

  
"Are you gay, Zayn?" Harry blurted out. Liam's neck snapped up and his eyes glared at Harry with a horrified expression. Niall was fully alert , sighing and looking at Harry like he had just ruined everything.

  
"Bi, not gay." Zayn shrugged, taking out his phone to check something before slipping it back into his coat pocket. "Why do you ask?"

  
"Just curious, that's all. Have fun you two." Harry smirks at Liam as he walks back to his room. He knew he wasn't welcome and he didn't plan on embarrassing anyone anymore than he just had.

  
He needed sleep, yes sleep would be good. His head was beginning to hurt and he would either crash and burn or insult/embarrass one of the three people in his living room. It's not like he cared, no not really. He just wanted Liam to date someone.

  
You would have to be blind to not notice that Liam was growing affectionate of Zayn. He was insanely perfect in face and probably body wise as well. He was laid back, something Liam loved, and he was respectable. No 'fuck you' tattooed on the knuckles and no Mohawk. Harry was fine with the bloke, and now that he knew he was bi liam would be fine with him too. Harry could see the question lingering in Liam's eyes, well maybe that wasn't curiosity but something different, but Harry played it off as curiosity. He asked for Liam, and now Liam knew. Kudos to harry for that one.

  
Harry stripped of his clothes and threw them into the pile on the floor. He would so laundry when he woke up, or get someone else to do it for him. Either way, he needed more shirts because be was on a major low. With nothing on, Harry slipped into his bed and wrapped himself in the puffy duvet.

  
Even being drunk, Harry could still feel the pain of rejection bubbling deep down in his throat.

 

* * *

  
He was jolted awake by his phone ringing, the annoying default setting ring. He grumbled to himself at the late afternoon light hitting him dead in the eyes as he searched for his phone.

  
"Hello?" He cough, his voice sounding just as groggy as he felt. His head was throbbing from the whiskey and a quick side glance at the clock told him it was eight at night.

  
"Hey love, it's Dani. I heard about Louis." She got straight to the point, sounding perky so she must have woken up before he had.

  
"How did you hear about it? Did he tell you?" Harry sat up and reached for his dresser to extract a pair of underwear to slip into.

  
"Not exactly. You told me you would do it this week so when he called to ask I'd he could have a sick day Wednesday I knew it was about you. Well I didn't know, it was a lucky guess."

  
"Oh, so he's chickening out of work on Wednesday. Great. Do we have a backup?" Because of Harry's stupid judgment call, Danielle was going to have to work twice as hard. Good going Harry, you're a great friend.

  
"Sadly, we don't. We can handle it though, don't beat yourself up over how wimpy Louis is. If you want, you can come over here. I have ice cream in the freezer and some romantic movies we can cry over. Love, actually is one of them." She offered, sacrificing his favorite movie. Gay or not, he loved movie nights with junk food and with Danielle they could both blubber and cry throughout the whole movie without caring, which was amazing.

  
"You know how to persuade me dani." He laughed, "I'll be over in ten. Need me to pick anything up?"

  
"If you want soda or whatever you could get that, I'm fresh out."

  
"Okay, see you then. Ill get coke." He hung up after she said her goodbye.

  
He found a cleanish pair of black sweats to slip on and borrowed Liam's grey shirt and a grey beenie. He checked in the mirror to make sure his fringe was good and that he didn't look like hell froze over, which he didn't. Zayn was still with the other two when Harry was leaving, and he made a mental note to pry the details out of Liam later.

  
He took Liam's car, a grey Prius, and drove the short fifteen minutes to Dani's complex. She lived on the ninth floor, so taking the stairs wasn't Harry's first option. He had a six pack of soda in one hand and his phone in the other, riding the elevator patiently up to her flat before banging with his knee.

  
"It's unlocked Harry." She yells from inside. Harry nodded to himself, slipping his phone into his pocket. So he could open the door.

  
He had been to her flat multiple times, Liam and Danielle had dated before Liam found out he was questioning himself. She was cool with it, and all three would hang out sometimes. Her flat hadn't changed much, just rearranged furniture and a few more decorative pieces. She went for different shades of blue and one shade of white, and Harry loved the cleanliness and way her place was set up.

  
"You look like shit." She meets him in the doorway, a pair of black yoga pants on with a big white, knit sweater and a pair of red fuzzy socks.

  
"You look good. Like usual." Harry hands her the case of sodas she brings with her as she leads him to the living room. "And you woke me up from a nap that I took after I downed a thing of whiskey."

  
"Wow, what a night you had." She falls onto the couch once setting the sodas down on the coffee table. "I got out all my movies. Sad but happy movies in one stack and hate yourself sadness movies in the other. Pick your poision while I get us ice cream. You still like mint chocolate, don't you?"

  
"I still do. Thank you Mrs. Organization, I will set out our marathon." He folds one of her blankets around him. Her flat had crap heating, so she stressed wearing warm clothes whenever he came over. Of course, he forgot, so she always set out her warmer blankets for him.

  
She scoffed as she shuffled into her well designed kitchen and Harry heard the clank of spoons against bowls and the opening of the fridge. He looked over the movies and extracted Marley and and Me, Titanic, The Notebook, Precious, and Hatchi. Danielle comes back in and gives him his bowl, piled high with mint chocolate chip and whipped cream. He thanked her and showed her the stack of movies he had picked out.

  
"This is ten hours worth of movies, Harold. And two of them are about dogs. Are you sure you're not suicidal?" She tried to lighten the mood.

  
"I like my movies sad, what can I say." Harry shrugged as she put the movies in. "Okay do Titanic first." He instructed, handing her the DVD.

  
"Sure thing Princess Styles." She sassed, pressing it in and grabbing the remote. "Throw me that blanket, will you?"

  
"Here you go." Harry gives it to her, careful not to hit her bowl. She thanks him, turning up the sound to the movie as it started. They both shifted to get comfortable, spoons hitting the insides of bowls as they both savored their comfort food.

  
It took Harry halfway through the movie before he started to get teary. At the end, they were both crying. They paused their movie marathon to rant about guys, Harry dishing out all the details about the two day crush that was cut short by his stupidity. Danielle sobbed about her one night stands and her lack of decent boyfriend material, telling Harry how most guys keep their brains in their dicks and their brain space open for storing porn.

  
They only got through three movies, Titanic, Marley and Me, and the Notebook to Harry's delight. They cried through all of them and went for seconds halfway between Marley and Me. After ten minutes of Danielle fusing over him, Harry finally convinced her to let him go home. She told him that he could come over whenever he needed, but the only requirement was that he bring his own tub of ice cream.

  
He drove home trying not to think about Louis and how he would deal with the work situation. He sure as hell wasn't going to quit, that wasn't an option. He could ask for different shifts, but he couldn't get out of the Saturday/Sunday shifts because those were their busiest days. Besides, Louis probably already asked for changed shifts and Danielle just didn't remember to tell him.

  
He opted with staying the same and ignoring Louis. He would stick close to Danielle at work and leave earlier so he could avoid seeing Louis in the halls. Harry could just pretend like Louis didn't exist, that would work.

  
Hopefully.

 

* * *

 

The week went by surprisingly fast. Harry stuck to his plan and dodged Louis. He was right, Louis is change his shifts so he would be working in Harry's free days. He wasn't offended, he knew what to expect. Saturday, he stuck to Danielle's side like they were conjoined and Louis stayed to his side. Harry would catch Louis stealing glances at him, and via versa. But for a majority, neither of them acknowledged the other.

  
Sunday went the same, only Louis left early and that allowed Harry to venture down to the south end of the bar. But Harry found himself missing Louis' sarcastic remarks and his love to rant about things, more than he should. He missed his laugh, the way he hummed to himself as he worked. All those little things made him Louis, and that was why he loved him. Yes, love. He realized that over the course of two days, he had fallen head over heals for this boy from Doncaster, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

  
Louis was trying, he certainly was. He wouldn't stand around Harry, he wouldn't breathe the same air from Harry. He was trying to erase Harry, and for what, confessing his love? That seems a little over dramatic. Harry began to think that Louis was trying to fix himself as well. Maybe he liked Harry back, but he couldn't bring himself to realize that he wa in fact gay. Maybe Louis actually loved him yet didn't need a relationship.

  
The next week went by the same way, Harry sneaking looks while Louis tried his best to stay the farthest he could away from Harry. Harry tried to act like he didn't care, he really did. But with every flinch Louis made when Harry talked or every startled gaze when Harry had to go down to Louis part of the bar for a liquer, it scratched a piece of Harry's heart away. He hated the two weeks, it was hell. But it was all worth te one day Louis spoke to him again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about all the typos and errors in every chapter, I'm writing this all on my iPod and it doesn't work as well as a laptop.

**Louis POV**

  
He had too talk to him, he had too. In the past two weeks his brain has been on overdrive, the one word being repeated over and over and over again. No matter what he did, how far away he pressed himself into the bar counter, or how many girls he fucked in alley ways. His brain still wanted the and person.

  
Harry, Harry, Harry. Harry fucking Styles.

  
He had come to the conclusion that the only way his brain would stop asking for Harry was to talk to him. Louis had had enough of ignoring him, watching him from afar. He knew he had feelings for Harry, that was beyond discussion. But how much was the question. How far did he want to allow himself to go before he told himself no more.

  
Louis had to work up the nerve to talk to Harry on Sunday. He couldn't do it on Saturday, Harry had a sick day for some reason. He waited till it was time to go, when everyone had left and they were cleaning up. Harry was wearing Louis favorite jeans, the ones that hugged him like skin, and his scooping v-neck. He looked amazing to say it simply, and Louis would just love to year them off of him.

  
He watched as both Harry and Danielle exited the bar and Louis did the same. He noticed how close they had become, probably because Louis was shit at showing good emotions. Mad and sad he could show no problem, but love and happiness were another issue.

  
How should I talk to him? Louis asked himself. He decided to wait till Danielle had left in her car and Harry had started to walk. Over the last two weeks he had waited ten minutes before leaving to make sure he wouldn't run into Harry. Now, he wanted to catch up with him.

  
"Hey Harry, wait up!" Louis broken into a run to catch up with the other boy. Harry turned around and looked appealed that Louis could speak, let alone speak to him. 

 

"What do you want?" Harry came off as curious and cautious rather than rude, thankfully. He was thinking that harry was going to yell at him, tell him to get lost or fuck himself, so this was good.

  
"I want to talk." Louis took a deep breath. Harry eyed him for one moment before continuing to walk, Louis at his left.

  
"About what?" Louis could feel Harry watching him, staring at his side.

  
"About that Sunday when you told me," he was unable to say it and his cheeks reddened. "Well I guess I overreacted about it."

  
"I'm sorry about that, my fault. Bad at gauging things, so I'm sorry." Harry quickened his pace but Louis was determined to keep up.

  
"No I have something else to talk about." His words had no effect on Harry, who kept waking quickly, far too quickly for Louis to match. He made a spur of the moment decision. "I like you too Harry!"

  
Once his words escaped their cage, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He looked frozen, his breath billowing in a white cloud above his head. Harry slowly turned on his feet, looking Louis dead in the eye, which seemed hard seeing as Louis was a few feet behind Harry.

  
"You what?"

  
"I like you back. Well more than a little like." He admitted, keeping the eye contact.

  
"You like me back." Harry rolled the words over in his mouth, making sure it was a statement and not some silly jokes.

  
"Yeah I have. For two weeks, actually. Maybe a little over." Louis lets out a small, shakes laugh.

  
"Are you fucking with me? Because this isn't something to joke about, being gay." His tone his sweet, sickly sweet.

  
"No I'm not. I've thought it over the last few weeks and I realized I liked you back. Maybe not as much as you like me, but I'm willing to try dating a bloke."

  
"I hope you're not thinking of me as an experiment."

  
"I wasn't?" Louis brows furrow and he shortens the space between the two. "Why can't I?"

  
"Because your straight. You know that. Maybe you're just curious, ill bring you to a gay bar no problem. But I don't want to be the one who helps you decide if you like Guys over girls, that's a little to much pressure." He says honestly. He did have a point, Louis could understand that. But a gay bar? Louis had never been to one nor thought he ever would.

  
"Do you think ill like it?" Louis felt like a child who was sampling a new food and was afraid to try it.

  
"For some people it's heaven, others hell. You have to find out for yourself. Personally, I think their just as gross as normal bars. But I'll go with you of you'd like, give you some pointers to help find a good night stand." Harry gave a sleek smile that made Louis heart flutter. He had missed Harry's smile most of all, his big toothy grins and how he crinkled the corners of his eyes. The small smile would work for now, that's for sure.

  
"I...I think I'll try it, with you. If that's okay, I mean. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything." Louis mentally slapped himself over the head. He sounded stupid, like he couldn't add two plus two to get four.

  
"Louis I've done this with too many people to count, don't feel like this is new for me." Harry laughed slightly, like an inside joke Louis wasn't apart of. "Lets walk and talk, I want to get home before my balls freeze off." Harry's statement made Louis think of Harry in that kind of way, and that made Louis blush with embaressment.

  
"So, what, ill go to a gay bar and come back with a yes and no answer?" Louis asked. He didn't want to go into this expecting anything miraculous to happen and get cut short.

  
Harry let out a short, "Lou, when will you notice nothing is every yes or no?" Louis loved that he was using Louis' nickname again. "You could score it good and have your answer clear and not murky. For the most part, you barley learn anything about yourself. But you do learn if you top or bottom."

  
"Oh. Okay then. So when are we going to have the Louis gay test?" Louis shook his head at the imagery in it. He was wondering now if Harry was a bottom or a top. Louis knew he was a top, that was for sure. But what about Harry?

  
"Whenever. We should do it on a Friday or something, tell Danielle about it so she can be prepared and all that." They arrived at the building and Harry instinctively held the door open.

  
"Doesn't she hate me though?" With all the glares or the exaggerated sighs, Louis was sure he would be cornered by a gang sooner rather than later.

  
"Oh god no, Dani could hate you. She just didn't favor your way of flight, that's all." Harry pushed the bottom and turned to Louis with a goofy smile. "I'm glad we can talk now. You don't know how many times I wanted to say 'screw this' and talk to you. Dani always convinced me otherwise, she said you needed space." Thank god for Danielle. He really did need his space, he had so much to think about and to think over involving Harry and how he felt.

  
"That's comforting, I guess. So, ill just text you, yeah?" Louis smiled genuinely at Harry as they got off the lift.   
"Oh, I need your number."

  
"Gimme your phone." Harry complied wilingly and gave him his phone. Louis plugged in his number and handed the phone back to Harry. "Text whenever. I usually respond."

  
"Thanks." Harry smiled. "So I guess this is farewell for now. Ill see you at Saturday?" So Harry had noticed he had changed his shifts around.

  
"I'll talk to Danielle to see if I could get my shifts put back with yours. But yeah, see you." Louis waved at him as he entered his own flat with a sigh of relief. He had done it, he spoke to Harry and was ready to figure out what the hell he was feeling.

  
He wore a big smile, a smile of proud, as he walked towards his room. He didn't notice Zayn, nor did he notice the weirded out look he had on his face.

  
"What's got you shitting unicorns and glitter?" Zayn commented from the couch. Louis shot him a glance, allowing his smile to faultering for a second before it grew big again.

  
"Its nothing too important." Louis throws off his clothes to pull on a pair of sweats, leaving his shirt off.

  
"Oh don't fuck with me Lou. Tell me whose got your panties in a knot." Louis comes out, giving him an eye roll.

  
"Just in figuring my stuff out, is all. And someone is helping me out." Louis hoped Zayn would understand the double meaning, understand what he was saying. Thankfully, he did.

  
"Wait, since when were you questioning your sexuality? And why not come to me?" Zan tried to come off as strong, maybe a little cocky, but he could see that Zayn wasn't happy about it.

  
"Since I started the job. You know my coworker, Harry? Well I feel something towards him. And he's bringing me to a gay bar to help me figure myself out a little more."

Louis plopped down into the couch. "I didn't come to you because I wanted to tell the guy I like before I give my best mate any false hopes at fucking me."

  
Zayn groans, "just because I lean both ways doesn't mean I want to do you, Louis. I've seen what your working with, and it's not much." His eyes flicker to Louis crotch and Louis lets out a dramatic gasp.

  
"Rude! I'm working with more than you are, you twat." Louis rolls his eyes once more at his obnoxious friend. He stood, smacking Zayn on the shoulder, before shuffling to the kitchen. He could drink something alcoholic, but he wasn't feeling in te 'lets get drunk' mood so he opted with the coke in the fridge.

  
He was almost out of the kitchen when someone knocked on their door. Zayn gave out a groan which meant he was my going to get it, leaving Louis to do it. He set down the can and opened the door to Harry, of course.

  
"Hey." Louis smiled. He pretended not to catch the way Harry's eyes grew big or how they lingered on Louis bare chest.

  
"I was sent by Niall to ask for a beer. And Liam wanted to ask if Zayn has his sweatshirt from the other night." Harry looked over Louis into the flat.

  
"I do! Does he want it back?" Zayn shouted from the main room.

  
"You mind if I come in? I don't want to be yelling." Louis nodded and moved so Harry could come in. "I don't think he cares, he just wanted to know cause he couldn't find it."

  
"Since when did you borrow people's sweatshirts?" Louis gaped. Zayn doesn't borrow clothes in two weeks, it took Zayn a year before he asked to borrow Louis shirt for a formal event.

  
"Since I get cold." Zayn shrugged, and Louis knew he was hiding something. He didn't ask, he wasn't going to embares Zayn in front of Harry.

  
"Whatever." Louis turned back to Harry, "we don't have much, but you can take whatever you like." Louis leads him to the fridge and their seven bote collection of cheap beer.

  
"I'll just take two, Niall's drunk enough." Harry holds up the bottles to Louis face. "Thanks, I owe you."

  
"Not a problem." Louis popped open his can of coke and took a quick sip before following Harry out. "See you whenever."

  
"Whenever." Harry stated, walking back towards his flat. With a clicked lock, he rushed back to Zayn for an explanation. Zayn was still sitting in the same spot, barley focused on the show.

  
"Okay so lets try this again. Since when did you borrow people's clothes?" He wanted to get his coke, but knew Zayn would change the subject so he waited.

  
"Dunno." His gaze remained focused on the tv.

  
"Zayn, I've known you for years and you take arouns that long to start share clothes. So tell me, why the sudden change?" Louis sits down in front of the tv and all but corners Zayn into talking to him.

  
"I like the bloke, okay? He smells good so I borrowed his hoodie. The smells ducking wearing off. Happy now? Let me get back to cupcake wars." Zayn grumbles and Louis complies, getting the information he needed. Liam didn't seem like Zayns type, too goody two shoes for him. Oh well, maybe opposites attract for Zayn. But for Louis, his type was Harry. Harry fucking Styles.

 

* * *

 

"It's whenever!" Harry chirped from the other side of the phone. Harry was correct, it was Friday night that they were going out.

  
"Yippie!" Louis groaned, "gimme a time and place and ill be there." Louis was still in his sweats and didn't feel like partying, he felt a lite under the weather. But he wouldn't tell Harry that, Harry was excited for sure. Louis would suck it up, he wanted to find out already. Find out if he liked only Harry or guys in general.

  
"No need. Get dressed if your not, in at your door."

  
"Just come it. It's unlocked." Louis groaned and hung up, hearing the front door open and close and heavy footsteps. A small knock was on his door, "just open the door."

  
"Well sorry, I didn't want to see your willy. Common curdesy." Harry sassed, opening the door. He wore Louis favorite jeans and instead of a black shirt, it was a a surprising low white t. It made Louis drool, that was for sure. He could see a tattoo or more poking out of the shirt and he surprised a giggle. Louis loved his tattoos, well at least all the ones he could see.

  
"What a gentleman. I still need to get properly dressed." He waved a hand over his lazy wear and Harry nodded, turning his back. "You don't have to do that, I don't care."

  
"You used too." He muttered quietly, falling only Louis bed. Harry still averted his eyes, his made Louis frown slightly. Oh well, Louis thought. He dressed with whatever he found in his area. This ended up with a pair of navy blue jeans and a grey shirt, a decent outfit. It was easy to get in and out of, which is what Louis was going to be doing.

  
"Do I look good?" He did a small twirl in front of Harry.

  
"Fantabulous." Harry rolled his eyes, tossing Louis his phone and grabbing Louis wrist to pull him out. "I'm taking Louis out clubbing. We'll come home drunk." Harry says to Zayn as he pulls Louis out of the flat Into the hallway. He had already informed his flat mates so they just had to go.

  
"Wait, what about a car?" Louis hadn't grabbed his keys and he couldn't recall if Harry had a car or not.

  
"Don't worry 'bout it. I got my baby waiting for us. Ill apologize ahead of time for the mess, I share with two other blokes." Harry slowly loosened his grin on Louis wrist till he no long touched him. Louis missed the touch, Harry was a furnace set on high and if comforted Louis cold self.

  
"Don't worry about it, I don't expect much from it." Louis laughed.

  
"Oh shove it where the sun shines." Harry scoffed. Louis breath hitched in the back I'd his throat. Did Harry remember Louis saying from weeks before? Did he really just copy Louis. He sucked in a breath and his cheeks warmed at the thought if Harry writing it down to remember.

  
"So where are we going, exactly?" Louis had kept his question stuffed down as they walked out, but his curiosity got the best of him. He opened the car door and slid into the seat as Harry did the same.

  
"Oh now I can't tell you, that would ruin the adventure." Harry sent a devilish grin at Louis. He plugged the keys in and started the car, turning up the radio so they could hear the soft rock.

  
"Please tell me your not bringing me to a gay strip club?" Louis was willing to test out his boundaries, but gay strip club on the first night was going too fast too soon.

  
"Oh damn, you guessed it." Harry took one look at Louis face and curated into a fit of laughter. It sounded ten times better than Louis favorite song, "you should see the look on your face! You should know me better than to scare you away from the gay side of things. We're just going to a gay bar, nothing special. Just a place a good drive away from home, that's all. Just breath, Lou." Harry's laughter died to a small chuckle as he continued to drive.

  
"Yeah, just breathe." Louis repeated, "why are we going somewhere far away?"

  
"I would expect you to know. It's so we don't pick up our neighboor." Harry looke over at Louis who's as still clueless. "When you pick someone up, you want a one night stand. Most people don't drive this far away for a bar, so we don't risk taking home anyone we know or live close too. No fuss, no muss."

  
"Oh, okay. Why did you expect me to know that?"

  
"You just seem to the the kind of person who does this often." Harry said and they both allowed the conversation to die out. Harry turned but the music, a song that Harry signified as the Artic Monkeys playing as a sort if background music. It was a longer drive than Louis had thought, and he found himself happy to be pulling into the parking lot. He ignored the butterflies in his stomach, he would drink away that feeling soon enough.

  
Harry payed the few at the door, saying he was here for Louis and didn't want him wasting his money. Louis thanked him and pulled Harry's wrist as they made a beeline for the bar. Louis ordered their strongest alcohol, sitting harry down because he didn't drink. After a food three strong drinks, he parted from Harry and started to make his way through the sweating mass of guys.

  
He soon forgot about Harry's watchful eyes following him around the dancefloor. He grinded against bodies that grinded back. He too began to sweat and he could feel his lust growing. Before he could think the idea over, he took the face of the guy he was grinding against and plunged his lips against his. He didn't pull away nor did he hesitate as he pulled Louis out of the swarming bodies. Their lips remained glued as Louis shoved the other guy against a wall. Louis could briefly remember he had blonde hair and brown eyes, two things he didn't like in a guy, but he didn't care.

  
He allowed the boy, whose name had gone unspoken, to pull him into a corridor. He tasted like cheap alcohol and cigarettes, a taste that hung in Louis mouth as he pulled back to take a deep breath.

  
"Lets go into the bathroom." He said, lips pushed against Louis as he lead them both into the poorly cleaned bathrooms. They chose the last stall, giggling all the way.

 

"I'm George." His words were shallow and breathless, lust lacing every syllable.

  
"Louis. Now take off your pants." Louis smirked at the sudden burst of authority. George complied, pulling down his own pants and helping Louis with his own. They didn't bother with their shirts, Louis grabbing the condom George offered him.

  
Louis dropped his boxers, mimicking George's motion. He slipped the condom into his erect cock, feeling the pulsing veins on he side. George let out a soft moan at the sight of Louis dick.

 

"Now bend over love." George nods and turns so his ass was toward Louis. With one hand on George and the other pressed firmly against the wall, he pushed into George.

  
It was tight, way tighter than he was expecting. They both uttered soft moans of content. Louis thrusters into George with a new found strength, a surge of pleasure pumping through him with every laced moan. This was way better than with girls, Louis thought to himself. So much more pleasure than he had ever had with Eleanor.

  
Every push, every moan was felt with more pleasure for Louis. Maybe it was the alcohol running around his body, or the thrill of being with a guy. Whatever it was, Louis wanted more. With one last gasp Louis came, George repeating his action with an arched back. Louis eyes fluttered, the feeling if the orgasm leaving him wanting more.

  
Louis pulled out, tossing the used condom aside and pulling up his boxers and pants. He took a step back and allowed George to do the same. Louis gave a short, curt nod to the bloke as he left with the final zip of his zipper.

 

He took one glance in the mirror, fixing his hair slightly, before he stepping out if the bathroom.  
The club was still bouncing with the many male figures. Louis felt drained, which he was in truth, but he could also feel the alcohol taking its bad side effects.

Thankfully, Harry was still at the bar, only now he was accompanied by a guy and they looked to be talking rather than getting into each others pants.

  
Louis stalled for a second before approaching the two. The other guy had blonde hair and brown hair, like George but not at all like him. Harry was smiling, a heart wrenching smile that Louis loved.

  
"Hey Harry." Louis dragged on his name like it stuck to his tounge. Yep, he was drunk. Yippie. "I wanna go hooome." He whined. Harry looked at the guy and mouthed a sorry before taking Louis hands in his larger ones.

 

"Are you drunk?" Louis nodded and Harry let out a sigh. "Great. Okay, you have my number Peter. Call me whenever." Harry shot one last smile before leading Louis out without a word. Louis was tired now that he thought about it, and his hands hurt from pushing on the metal stall wall.

  
"I fucked a guy, Harry. It was perfect." Louis blubbered. "I definitely like guys now."

  
"That's great Lou." Harry said. His voice missing its usual chipperness. "Lets get you home."

  
"Can I kiss you Harry?" Louis stopped walking, Harry's hand dropping from where it held Louis' hand. 

  
"Wha-" Harry couldn't finish his word for Louis had slammed his lips against Harry's.


	6. Chapter 6

**Harry POV**

He had told himself he would be fine with it. He had, as he said, helped a bunch of guys out this way. But Louis was different. Harry didn't know how. But he was LOUIS. His hair, his eyes, his smell, everything about him made Harry's love grow with every day they spent together.

  
But he told himself going into this that Louis was going to fuck someone, he knew it. It didn't mean he liked it at all though. He had lost sight of Louis and the guy he was feeling up when Peter had started to talk to him. Peter was nice enough to be a distraction, so Harry bought him a drink with his quickly emptying wallet. It wasn't until he saw Louis come out of the bathroom with the biggest smile on his face that he knew he wasn't content with Louis fucking anyone but him.

  
He waited for the guy to come out, and Harry couldn't hold in the stifle of laughter that was growing in his gut. The guy was waddling. Waddling like a duck. Well at least Louis was a top.

  
"Hey Harry. I wanna go hooome." Louis looked tired standing in front of Harry, which angered him even more. He looked hammered as well, must be the alcohol he downed before throwing himself into the heap of male bodies.

  
"Are you drunk?" Louis gave a pathetic nod. "Great. Okay, you have my number, Peter. Call me whenever." Harry gave Peter a sympathetic look. Peter nodded with a hopeful smile, but he knew Peter wouldn't call him back. No guy ever did, which was usually okay by Harry. He took Louis by the hands, hoping that he would be able to make Louis get into the car before he started fighting back.

  
"I fucked a guy, Harry. It was perfect." Louis gurgled his words like bait on a hook Harry wanted to bite. "I definitely like guys now." Yeah, he was drunk alright. At least he was certain, that was what Harry had thought. Louis knew what he wanted, never questioning himself for a majority. But would he question being with Harry, that's what scared him.

  
"That's great Lou." Harry tried to hide his jealously, his anger as he talked to Louis. "Lets just get you home." He looked both ways before leading them across the steet to the parking lot. It was almost empty, allowing Louis to stumble without Harry fearing he would fall face first into another persons car.

  
"Can I kiss you Harry?" Louis stopped in his tracks. Harry then realized his hand was still conjoined with Louis and he slowly dropped the action. He twirled around to stare at Louis who anxiously bit his lip in a majorly seductive way.

  
"Wha-" Harry was unable to spot out the word as Louis took a giant step to eliminate the space between the two and pressed his lips firmly against Harry's. he tastes like berrys, alcohol, and something like cigarettes. He knew Louis didn't smoke, so it had to have been his boy you from earlier. It took all of Harry's strength and self control to push the boy away, the sweet taste leaving his mouth and being replaced by the smoggy london air.

  
"You taste so good Hazza." Louis cooed. Harry gulped, trapping the boys forearm in his hand and tugging him towards the car. If it hurt, Louis didn't say, he just allowed Harry to shove him into the car rather violently.

 

No words were spoken, just the awkwardness following both of them like an uncutable string. Harry plugged the keys in with an unneeded force and drove quickly back to the flat. Within the first five minutes he even found his favorite radio station to be too irritating, turning it off with force. 

 

"Why are you mad Harry?" Louis asked innocently next to him. Harry shot a menacing glare that softened at the sight of Louis. His hair was screwed up, eyes glazy in the dimly lit car interior. His clothes were wrinkled, making him look like the child he was inside.

  
"I'm not mad..." Harry trailed off as he focused on driving them home. Louis want satisfied, huffing.

  
"I can tell you are. Why?"

  
"Because you just fucked a guy!" Harry shouted with all the anger that he had bottled up. "I know I told you I didn't care, but I do. And that you lost your gay virginity to someone other than me pisses me off." Harry's tightening grip on the steering wheel loosened after his mini rant. He kept looking to his left to see what Louis was doing, what emotions he had written on his face, but he couldn't. Louis had turned to face the window and had kept his position normal. He had sealed himself from Harry, a thought that made his heart clench.

  
The rest of the drive was like that, silent and leaving Harry with a million questions flying through his head. Harry kept them to his self, knowing Louis would burst at any second. He did, however, come around to help Louis to his feet. He tried to push Harry away, but with our failing step he grabbed for Harry who more than happily helped Louis to his flat.

  
Louis allowed Harry to baby him, guide him down the hallways before stopping to let Louis lean against his doorframe. Louis offered up the brass key that Harry took and jiggled into the keyhole. Louis opened the door but stakes, turning to face Harry.

  
"I meant the kiss. Thanks for tonight, Hazza." And with that Louis closed the door with a subtle click. Oh man was he falling for Louis.

  
"So how was your night?" Liam asked as Harry closed his front door. It was around one in the morning and Liam was cooking.

  
"Why are you cooking this late?" Harry threw his shoes off and padded to the island in the middle of the kitchen to snag an apple.

  
"Your avoiding my question." Liam's voice was stern, his usual tone with Harry.

  
"And your avoiding mine." Harry leaned against the counter and nibbles gently on the fruit.

  
"Ugh. Niall was hungry so I'm making food. Now answer me."

  
"It was cat shit. Absolutely horrible." Harry set the apple down with a look of distaste. He wasn't hungry, just tired. "I think I'm going to go to sleep." And Liam nodded.

Harry passed Niall on the couch, laughing silently to himself at the tv. He reached his for and was stopped by Liam's voice.

  
"You love Louis don't you?"

  
"Yeah I think I do."

 

* * *

  
He found he could go to sleep. He tried everything he could think of to help him, but nothing worked until it was six in the morning. He finally relaxed, his thoughts, mainly of Louis, calmed from their constantly running to sleep as well. Harry curling in on himself and wrapped his duvet around his naked body to warm him even more than he already was.

  
This peaceful sleep didn't even last him an hour before his door was being assaulted by someone's fist. He groaned loudly, hoping Liam or Niall got the message that he didn't want to be bothered. Regardless if they heard or not, they opened the door with a blast of cold air. Harry tightened the duvet around him.

  
"You have company you lazy ass." Liam sounded exasperated and he gave him another groan of defiance. With one smooth motion Liam tore the duvet away from Harry and scoffed at the sight of his bare ass. "Oh my god Harry."

  
"You should be used to it now you fuckwad. Just send them in." Harry kept his eyes closed but pulled the duvet back over himself.

  
"Fine." Liam snapped, slamming his door and sending his bed shaking with the shock of the blow. Good anger management, Liam.

  
Next came a timid knock, definitely not Liam, and possiblely Niall but he doesn't knock so that rules them both out. Who would want to visit Harry this early in the morning? No family, that was sure. So who?

  
"Harry can I come in?" It was Louis. Shit shit shit. Why Louis, and why now?

  
"Sure." Harry cleared his throat. His voice was disgustingly deep in the mornings, something he hated almost as much as his bed head.

  
His door peaked opened slowly before Louis slipped through and closed it just as swiftly. Light barley made its way trough the curtain, but Harry could see Louis looked to still be in his pajamas. Cute pajamas, coca-cola bottoms and a white top barring the coke logo. His hair was tussled and his fringe stood up on weird places, adding to his sexiness.

  
"What can I do for you?" Harry sat up and rubbed his neck. Louis' eyes widened slightly at his bare chest and array of tattoos scattered over the flesh. Harry smirked, the amazement written all over Louis face.

  
"I had to come in early before I could change my mind, so sorry about the pj's." Louis threw an lazy motion to his outfit and ran a sweaty hand through his hair. He was nervous, which was insanely cute to Harry.

  
"Not a problem. I like them. I'm not wearing half as much." Harry said honestly. He definitely caught the sudden blinking if the older lad as he gave out the extra detail.

  
"They're...old gift from my ex." Louis stuttered, "mind if I sit?" Harry nodded and the foot of the bed dipped with Louis weight. He wasn't expecting those nice fitting pants would be from Eleanor, and that he would still he wearing them a good while after their break up.

  
"So, what calls for this early morning meeting?" Harry sits up a little more, bringing the blanket with him.

  
"I want to...I want to talk about last night." Louis spat out. He directed his gaze to Harry's carpet, cheeks flushing. His feet toyed with a shirt thrown onto the floor as he awaited for Harry's answer.

  
"Oh." Harry uttered. "You do?" Usually people tried their best not to talk about what happens when their drunk. Louis was different. Of course.

  
"Yeah I do. I don't regret kissing you. I just regret that I was too drunk to savor it." Louis lets out a shaky laugh, eyes still fixed on the carpet.

  
"Really?" Harry couldn't think of any answer other than the stupid one word answers he kept blubbering.

  
"Yeah. I like guys, I know that. And I'm a topper, so that's two things. But with George, it didn't feel right." So the fuck toy was named George. Well Harry's never liked the name anyway. "And the whole time I was ducking him, I kept wanting you. So that lead up to me kissing you and me being in your room with you naked." Louis takes a deep breathe after his fast words and looks Harry in the eye. His sparkling blue eyes were deep, deep and dark and dangerous fit them perfectly. They looked like candies you could just eat, yet would taste sour.

  
"So what are we going to be doing about this sexual tension?" Harry rubbed his raw, still not fully awake or aware of what what's happening.

  
"I wouldn't call it that," Louis blushed but still kept te eye contact, "but yes. I want to try dating you, even if it is slow and steady. I want to know if I'm gay by being with someone who I have feelings for and who i know more about than a first name." Louis smiled gently, a worn smile.

  
"Your a big ooaf, you know that right? And a crazy romantic. I'm supposed to be the romantic in this relationship." Harry laughed softly.

  
"I'm getting out of my comfort zone." He said simply.

  
"As am I." Harry reached for Louis face with one hand while his other hand held the sheet around his waist.

Louis lips tasted like he smelt, which was a relief. His normal berry self mixed with sugar, probably his tea. And toothpaste, which was a thought to smirk at. He had anticipated that they were going to be kissing.

  
Louis lips were moist and slightly parted against Harry's, better than they had been the night prior. He even kissed back slightly before he pushed Harry away. Harry felt a little bad for taking advantage of Louis' early morning self, but Louis looked content rather than furious.

  
"I said I wanted to take it slow. This isn't slow. And that erection you have seconds my thought." Louis pointed down to the sheet which was strained with his pulsing erection. Harrys cheeks brightened to the color of cherry candy, he was fully unaware of it. Louis let out a small laugh, ruffling Harry's hair with his small hand. Harry tried his best not to lean into the touch, but he wasn't too sure if his body was on his side or not. "I'll see you later Hazza." Louis nodded at him and stood, exiting his room.

  
He waited till he heard the front door click and the other two giggling in the other room before he let out a groan. He fell backwards, looking down his chest at the betraying boner that had ruined his best morning yet.

  
He dressed only with a pair of crinkled boxers before stepping out into main room. Niall got one look at him and collapsed into a fit of laughter that Liam soon reciprocated. Harry flipped his middle finger their way before grabbing a cup of coffee. It was too early for alcohol, but that didn't stop him from pouring a dose of lukewarm tequilla into his mug.

  
"You two are twats." Harry huffs as he sits on the couch, the other two calm enough to form understandable words.

  
"I said take it slow, not get a full blow boner." Niall mockes Louis voice which angers Harry even more. He grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Niall's head, hitting him right down the center of his face and leaving him she'll shocked for a second.

  
"Li did you see that? He hit me. He HIT me!" Niall shrieked like a girl, pathetically tossing the pillow at Liam who made his lips into an O.

  
"But I'm supposed to be the romantic in this relationship!" Liam mocked with a devilish grin. "And the sexual tension is so thick I could cut it with my dagger eyes." Harry squinted even further before ignoring both of them and staring at the tv. They eventually gave up, allowing Harry to sip his caffeine alcohol hybrid drink in somewhat peace.

  
"So are we going to sit here and wonde our area off or are you going to spill the serials?" Liam asked next to him and Harry flicked his question away with his hand.

  
"Let me finish my coffee." He snapped, narrowing his eyes at Niall when he opened his mouth to protest. He closed it, sighing dramatically and tapping his watch.

  
They did wait, that was for sure. Harry took his time, savoring the rather disgusting potion. He sipped slowly, much to the other two lads dismay. Once he was finished, he slowly rose from his seat and cleaned out his cup, smirking at their complaints and groans of annoyance.

  
"Okay, I'm ready."

  
"Are you dating him or just fuck buddies?" Niall chirped from his place on the door, a pillow in his lap.

  
"I think we're dating. Not to sure, he's a pandorica alright." Harry turned to Liam.

  
"Did he stare at your tattoos?" Pathetic question. Harry thought.

  
"Like they were expensive chocolates." Harry admires with a smirk and the other two laughed.

  
"We're his pj's really from his girlfriend?"

  
"He said they were. I'm giving her kudos for that, they make his bum look eatable." Harry laughed at the thought.

  
"You are making too many food reference words and now I'm hungry. Q&A is over blokes, one of you is drinving me to McDonald's!" Niall shouts excitedly, leaving the subject all together.

  
"You are driving Li, let me get some proper clothes on and we can go." Liam does at Harry who scurries off to his room. He slips into his sweats and a loose t, slinging a sweatshirt over it and calling it good. He grabbed his phone an checked the message, a single message.

  
**Hello boyfriend :) xxxxx**

* * *

"So this is going to be our first date." Harry cupped his hand around the reciever to try and shield it from the wind. He had to call Louis from outrage, away from the peeping ears of his best, but annoying, friends.

  
"I guess it is, isn't it?" Louis laughed nervously on the other end. Louis told Harry he hated surprises to try and get Harry to spill the beans, which he most certainly did not.

  
"So you'll need to wear a suit, you have one right?" Harry had the whole night planned out, and Louis not having a suit would ruin everything but the car ride.

  
"Of course I have a suit. What kind of informal slob do you pin me for?" Louis was bein sassy, meaning he was nervous. They had been dating for a week, basically just watching movies and cuddling, and Harry made sure to wait this long before they went on a proper date. He was easing Louis in, which is what he wanted. 

  
"Just making sure babe." The nicknames started first off to Harry's pleasure. "So I'll pick you up at seven?" He moved the phone away from his ear to check the time, six thirty.

  
"Don't be late Hazza." He could feel Louis smile through the phone before they both clicked off.

  
Harry was already dressed, his suit black and tailor for thanks to Niall's friend (a sketchy guy who worked out of the back of his can filled with nice material). He had a white pressed shirt, a navy blue bowtie, and a small scarf stuffed into his pocket of the same fabric the bowtie was made out of. His hair was fussed with my Liam who insisted to help. Even with his lack of hair, Liam had skill with hairstyling. He even got white hroses, red roses being too serious by Niall, to give to him. He was going all out for their first date, he didn't want to disappoint.

  
He exited the patio, checking his phone every five minutes until it reaches six fifty. He slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbing the keys from Liam's hand and the roses from Niall.

  
"Have fun!" Liam patted him on the back with a gently smile.

  
"No hand jobs under the table." Niall handed him the flowers with one of his few sober smiles (Harry is going on a proper date, I want to be sober enough to remember it in a month).

  
"Will do." Harry's smile hadnt dulled since he got off the phone with Louis, his hand constantly tapping on something out of sheer excitement.

  
He checked his hair, his face, and his teeth before walkin rather quickly to Louis flat. He checked the time, six fifty eight, and knocked on the door with a shaky hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter with smut! Yay!

**Louis POV**

  
"Okay if you look at your phone one more fucking time I'm going a-wall." Zayn snatched the phone out if Louis hand with a muffled cry of complaint. "You are checking your phone more than you are breathing, and that's not okay."

  
"Zayn give me my phone back." Louis twitched anxiously, reaching out for his phone. He didn't cant Harry to text or call and have Louis miss it. This was his first actual date and he was already stressed out enough.

  
He knew Harry loved him, that wasn't the question. He just wanted to look good. He spent a good amount of money on his new suit, a dark gray color that Zayn said complemented his eyes. He decided on a simple white shirt and a tie to call it good.

  
"Louis it's almost seven, you'll survive." Zayn still keeps the phone away from him, using it as a sort of bait. "It's not like Harry's in the bloody phone. Sit the hell down jumpy Jackie. Sheesh." Zayn rolled his eyes at Louis attempt at a scowl, padding jntk the kitchen for a drink.

  
"Zayn he could be arriving any-" his sentence was cut short by the doorbell. They both shared looks similar to two deer caught in headlights before they snapped into action.

 

Zayn set down his drink and tossed Louis his phone, which he caught perfectly even with his hands having their own earthquakes. Zayn took in a deep breath and stuck out his cheat, opening the door with his false authority.

  
"Hello." Harry said from the doorway. Louis couldn't see his suit because of Zayn and vice versa. "I brought flowers." He holds the bouquet of a dozen plus white roses above Zayns head for Louis to see. He would be lying if he said he didn't get turned on by the romantic gesture.

  
"You have to bring him home in one piece." Zayn tries his best to be responsible but gives up his act when he sees Harry's just as nervous as Louis. "Just don't crash the car when Louis jerks you off." Zayn scoffs and moves out of the way so Louis could are Harry.

  
Wow. Wow. Wow. He couldn't think past wow. His hair was perfectly swooped to the left, his dumped grin displayed like he was made of plastic. His suit was tailor made like Louis, but looked so much hotter. It was a midnight black fabric, a navy blue bowtie and pocket scarf bringing out the blue in his green orbs. He wore a new pair of dress shoes, shiny black ones.

  
"Wow." Harry spoke first, the bouquet going limp in his hands. Zayn quickly scooped them up, muttering something about finding a vase, before Harry could lose his grip on the flowers. "Wow."

  
"I would say te exact same to you." Louis stares with wide eyes at his boyfriend. His boyfriend. Wow.

  
"Okay you guys need to get a room or go because the reservations at seven thirty." Zayn snaps them out of their transe and they agree. Louis walks willingly after Harry as Zayn shoves him out, closing the door behind them.

  
"I knew you could clean yourself up, but hot damn." Harry whispers in Louis ear l, his voice deeper than usually. Louis turned a deep burgundy as they got into the elevator. Another guy was in the elevator, so they had to refrain from touching and staring in awe at the other.

  
The ride couldn't be any longer, the decent taking too long for either if their likening. With giggles and hushed words they made their way to Harry's now clean car. He even held the door open for Louis, another action that caused him to blush.

  
"So I guess asking wont do me any good." Louis looks ove at Harry, his hands relaxed on the wheel.

  
"Not at all. I told you babe, it's a surprise." Harry smirked, Louis groaning over the now common sentence. He loves when Harry called him babe, or any form of endearment.

  
"The roses were pretty, by the way. I like them better than red roses."

  
"That's what I thought." He laughed, plugging in a cd and pressing play. "These are the songs we first listened to together."

  
"This is Thats All by Genisis!" Louis exclaimed.

  
"I can't believe you remember that." Harry shot him a look that made his heart beat quicker. "How do you remember that?"

  
"I liked the song. And besides, that whole night I was basically pressed to your side. Best night if my life." Louis smiled, mostly to himself. It really was. Harry was just so open, and he loved to talk about himself and Louis, which was rare to find in a person. He didn't drain Louis if his energy, no, he added to it with his random facts and comments on the people in the bar. That was the night he felt the first inkling of feeling for the boy, the feeling of falling in love.

  
"It was for me too." Harry commented from his side of the car. They were both savoring the silence, the love that was unspoken but hung in the air. They enjoyed the mix Harry had put together, Louis nodding his head along to the beats. He remembered every song except the few that Harry didn't play for him. He would name them all, but the silence didn't new need be broken just yet.

  
"And here we are." Louis was day dreaming until Harry brought him back with his words. They were in a parking lot of a place called Port of Italy.

  
"How did you know I loved Italian?" He had beer told Harry, food was never in their conversations unless Harry was offering some to him.

  
"Lets just say Zayn has had some long phone calls from yours truly." He smirks, getting out of the car and rounding so he could open Louis door for him.

  
"Babe, it's romantic and all, but I think I can open a door for myself." He laughs, closing the door behind him and taking Harry's hand in his. Big and warm, making him feel dwarfed and protected.

  
"I planned this date down to the minute, and that includes me walking around the car to open your door. If I'm doing this I'm doing it right." Harry's voice rumbles in Louis ear and he feels his cheeks warm.

  
"Fine, but only this once." Louis couldn't hide his smile.

  
Harry even held the door open to the restaurant, Louis giving him an eye roll. He let out a loud yelp when Harry gave him a tender slap on the bum. A few heads turned, but no one paid to close attention. Harry laughed manically as he found his way to Louis side. Louis looked st the ground, his face probably as red as a tomato.

  
"And how can I help you today?" An old man asked from the podium at the mouth of the restaurant. He looked tired, like ten years without sleep kind of tired that made his words drop out of his mouth and his eyes droop.

  
"We have a reservation. Styles." Harry says with a confidence Louis knew he had but had never really seen. It was like he had done this before and knew what to do.

  
"Right this way sirs." The man groans as he moves, grabbing two menus and walking stiffly to their table. It was comfortably placed in the corner, away from the noises and people. "Does this work for your requirements?"

  
"Yes, thank you." Harry smiled briliantly at the man as he placed the menus down and picked up the paper reading reserved before walking away. Louis almost sat down before Harry gasped, rushing to pull out his chair.

  
"This is getting old, Har." Louis sighed at his gesture.

  
"I told you I'd treat this like a real date. And I am." Harry shrugged and picked up his menu from the table. Louis looked down and noticed all the many forks, plates, and things that made this place fancy. "You can get whatever strikes your fancy." And Louis nodded, looking over his menu. The entrees were twenty and up, and Louis couldn't find anything cheap enough.

  
"How much did it cost you? This whole date?" Louis tried his best to hide the croak of shock as he flipped over the menu to see the deserts, going over the twenty dollars on the front.

  
"Lets just say I saved for this. For you." Harry's voice lacked sarcasm, it was 100% pure and truthful.

  
"And what requirements?" Louis asked before he forgot.

  
"I told them I wanted privacy, away from the noise. I wanted it to be in the back as well, just so we don't get stares. You know how some people are." Again with the 100% truthfulness that made his heart sting with pain and joy.

  
"Thinking ahead, I like that in a man." Louis was still overwhelmed by all the choices and the details that were put into every dish.

  
"I see your overwhelmed." Harry placed his menu down and stared at Louis with a slight smirk preying on his rosy lips.

  
"And how could you tell that, love?" Louis looked up from the choices and smiled at him.

  
"Your face, of course." Harry giggled. "Your brows are pressed together and you keep licking your lips. So, I took the liberty and found you something to eat."

  
"What did you pick for us, babe?" Louis set down his menu with relief. Thank god Harry knew the signs, he had barley made his wide-eyed way to the soups and salads.

  
"I'm going to get raviolis and your going to take the spaghetti with meatballs. Your favorite." Harry raised his hand and a waiter made her way to their table.

  
"What may I offer you two?" She smiles as she pulled out her order pad, pen in hand.

  
"Two waters will be fine. He'll have the spaghetti with meatballs and ill have the raviolis." Harry takes Louis menu and his, handing them to the lady as she finishes writing.

  
"Right away sir. Just flag me if you need anything else." She smiled again and left. Louis noted the light music humming in the background, barley audible by the sounds of the restaurant.

  
"So, now that we're on our first actual date, you have to play the question game with me." Harry wore a smug smile that Louis loathed. "I'll go first."

  
"Go ahead." Louis leans back in his chair and lets out a small laugh as he ponders for his question.

  
"If you could be anyone from doctor who, who would you be and why?"

  
"We're starting off with doctor who? I pegged you differently, styles." Louis giggled, "I guess I'd be Jack because he's sassy, hot, and have you seen his ass? Artwork." Louis nods at his answer, content with it. "And now my turn. If you were to be anyone in the world for a day, who would you be and why?"

  
Harry barley even thought the question through, "I'd be you. I'd get to know your thoughts and feel your bum and I'd be wearing your big dick, which is a pointer to it." Harry laughed louder than he had wanted too.

  
"How do you possibly know its size?" Louis smirks, cheeks pink from the question.

  
"Your pants don't hide much, babe. Sorry to shatter your world." The woman places their drinks down on the table. "Thank you." They wait till she's gone before returning to their conversation.

  
"My pants? Have you seen yours? I don't know where you put your own dick, let alone how it doesn't fall off from lack of oxegyn."

  
"The Styles has his tricks." He giggled as he siped at the glass. "If you could erase any mistake, which would you erase and why?"

  
"That night you told me you love me and I ran for the hills. I'd erase that I've for sure. It would save us a bunch of trouble, don't you think?" Louis laughed slightly to hide his seriousness. Harry eyes searched his before uttering his words.

  
"Sometimes you need the bad to see how good the good actually is."

 

* * *

 

The night was barley short of perfection. Louis had the time of his life. From when Harry got ravioli sauce on his chin to spilling his water into the breadsticks, Louis couldn't picture a night more perfect.

  
After they had finished dinner and a shared desert, something fancy and delicious, Harry brought Louis back to the car and handed him a bag that was heavy in his hands.

  
"Change into those, you can get the backseat." Harry had his own bag in his hands and was already extracting what looked to be clothes.

  
"What is this for?" Louis questioned, digging through his own sack of mystery. There was a pair of his blue jean shorts and a tank top he had gotten from his trip to America, a basketball jersey. He questioned the clothes, looking back at Harry who was already slipping into his own shorts.

  
"Don't question, just strip." Harry smirked and pulled his own shirt over his head, a torn plaid shirt. He could recall Harry wearing that some time back. Louis shook his head, taking off his suit and carefully placing it down.

  
"And how exactly did you get my clothes?" He too off his pants and shimmied his way into the shorts, the back seat of the car a horrible changing room.

  
"Your room isn't exactly Fort Knox babe." Harry threw his suit into the back with little refers to its well being and helped Louis of his shirt on.

  
"I feel like our trust has been betrayed!" He mocked, climbing over he middle island to the front seat. Harry climbed in, closing his own door with a tongue stuck in Louis' direction.

  
"Oh stuff it love, you'll be happy when you wer where we're going. By the way, I love that shirt on you. Gotta love me some muscles." He pulled out of the parking lot with his usual goofy grin. "That's why I made sure to steal that one."

  
"We'll dont well yourself short. You make ripped sleeves look hotter than ever. And sports shorts have never looked so good, believe me." Louis wanted to run his hands up and down Harry's sides, he looked like a model. But he didn't need to crash the car, so he refrained from touching his way into Harry's pants.

  
The drive was filled with Harry talking about sports and his disliking of them only because he lacked the coordination and the soft music playing from his radio.

The night sky was dark, street lights casting orange light onto the steets and sidewalks. No one was out, even at ten people were asleep. Later in their drive, Louis realized he didn't know where they were.

  
He had never seen any of these buildings before, never heard of the steets. And when he skated Harry, he would 'lock' his mouth closed and would throw the key away. Louis gave up with him, watching the tall buildings fly past their car until they came into a forest.

  
They drove further into the deeply wooded place. It was a good ten minute drive down a horrible dirt road, rocks flying and dust cloudin behind them. Louis giggled when a rock came flying and hit the windshield, Harry cursing loud enough for the Canadians to hear. After the little scaring incident, they drove for five more minutes until they reached a secluded lake.

  
The first thing Louis noticed were the candles. They were in mason jars, sand in the bottom and the candles flickering. They made a pathway to a blanket near the waters edge where Louis could faintly see a basket. He also saw Liam and Zayn, casually leaning against Liam's car door.

  
"Harry...what is this?" Louis had his thoughts, most of them flying to the word marriage.

  
"You wanted a proper date. And my idea involves skinny dipping. Come on." Harry smiled wildly, flying around to the other side to open his door.

  
"And they're here because..." Louis pointed to the two guys who were now joking and whispering.

  
"Who else would light the candles for us?" Harry took Louis hand in his and all but catwalk strutted over to them. "You two are free to go snog. Just not here, thanks." Zayn grumbled a reply and slid into the drivers side while Liam bounced to his side of the car. Harry watched them go, his hand giving Louis' a little squeeze as he led him down the path.

  
"How did you find this place?" It was breathtakingly beautiful. The trees circled around the small lake, rocks making the shore line. It was secluded, that was for sure, the gravel 'parking lot' barley wide enough for two cars.

  
"It's been in the family for years. You're the first person I've wanted to bring here, on a date at least. I brought Liam and Niall a few summers back." Harry sprawled out onto the blanket and beckoned for Louis to lay with him. Louis gladly accepted the offer, curling into te larger boys side.

  
"I must say, you know how to treat a guy. No wonder your a heartless romantic." Louis lowered his voice, feeling Harry's kisses on his neck and in his hair.

  
The kisses stopped briefly, "what's that supposed to mean?" And they continued, moving up and down and giving him pleasurable shivers.

  
"It means that you believe in happy endings, fairy tale happily ever afters. I don't blame you, it's a nice fiction." Louis turned to face Harry's chest, placing a hand over his heart and cuddling closer into him. It wasn't cold as much as he just loved Harry's constant furnace heat.

  
"I'd much rather believe in happiness than in sadness. Either way, what's wrong with happily ever after?" His words were soft and almost hummed into Louis ear as they sat there. The night sky was clear and unpolluted, frogs and crickets chirping in the distance.

  
"It's just fiction, that's all." Louis rested his head against Harry's arm, staring at his cheekbones and his angular jaw, wondering how in hell he got Harry

  
"Did your parents tell you Santa was fake?" His question caught Louis off guard.

  
"Yes, why?" And Harry's chest shook with the pleasant laughter.

  
"You grew up without the happy lies. I found out when I was thirteen, sadly. A guy broke it to me hard. But I grew up believing in all of those lies, and a little sliver of me still wants to believe in ol' Saint Nick. Happily ever after is something I've always wanted, and with you, I feel a step closer than I've wer been." Louis was stunned. Harry couldn't have his happily ever after with Louis, he want anywhere near good enough for him.

  
But Louis couldn't stop thinking about it. While they laid there, watching the stars, Louis couldn't prevent from thinking of his happily ever after with Harry. They would have four kids, a big country farm, and a few dogs and cats just for Harry. They would be a big happy family, that's what Louis thought of when he thought of happily ever after.

  
He wanted his love with Harry to last. Through the mid life crises', the illness, and the old age. He wanted his forever to be filled with memories and Harry most of all. Thinking this made him a little scared, more than a little actually. He wanted his forever to be spent with Harry at his side. This could fall through, ther relationship, and Louis' forever would be shattered into a million forever less pieces.

  
"Enough pouting babe, lets go swimming." Harry stood, already stripping of his shirt.

  
"I wasn't pouting, I was thinking!" Louis states his case, laughing at Harry's dramatic groan.

  
"I don't care if your bored out of your mind. Strip for me!" Harry was down to his boxers, pulling Louis up off his feet. "Boxers or not? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

  
"Not is perfectly fine." To be true, Louis was dying to see Harry naked, see what he was going to be working with.

  
"Then not i will be!" And Harry dropped his boxers. Seven inches, Louis could swear on that much. He was stars truck briefly editor Harry was undressing him, mumbling about Louis dozing off too much. He even took off Louis boxers for him, making his mind race and his blood rush. "And we ride!" Harry took his hand and basically dragged him to the water.

  
It was cold, freezing almost. But Harry's hand was warm and he reused to stray from his side. Harry kissed him erotically, and Louis could feel his dick getting hard. He didn't need a boner to make this perfect night awkward, that was for sure. The water soon became to frigid for the both of them, and Louis let out a breath of relief when he did not have a boner.

  
"Here's your towel." Harry threw the blue cloth at him and laughed when Louis let out a gasp of surprise.

  
"I can feel the love." He grumbled, sitting down next to Harry and pressing a light kiss to his cheekbone.

  
"If you want, I could show you even more love." Harry offered, kissing Louis forehead with his heated lips.

  
"Babe, I love you, you know that. And that means I trust you. You can push my boundaries, you don't have to ask." Louis looked up at the glittering green circles he called his, and they were filled with love. Sickening lock, really. Happily ever after love that Louis was ready to strive for. How he got to this conclusion, he didn't know. It must have been this movie-like night that helped guide him to his answer.

  
"You don't know how long I have waited to hear you say that." Harry practically moaned as he pushed Louis down into his back and kissed him violently. Not shooting violently, more like I'm-too-turned-on-right-now-I-could-break-myself violent. His kisses weren't hesitating, not gingerly, but more like they were on a mission. A mission for sex, that's probably it. "Just say when when you want me to stop." He paused to look down onto him. 

 

"Just shut up and kiss me you ooaf." Harry chuckled as he pushed his tongue into Louis mouth.  
It didn't register to Louis until late that Harry had lost his towel and that he was clawing at Louis with paused movements. Louis pushed him forward, grasping Harry's hand in his and assisting with his towel being removed.

Harry's smile spread across Louis' lips as well as their kiss deepened, lust pulsing through the air.  
Louis nodded Harry on as his hand curled around Louis' dick, throbbing and erect. Louis let out a short and raspy moan, his hips rising off the blanket to get more friction from Harry's hand. He made a sort of tsk-ing noise at Louis' hornyness, yet still continue with his slow and steady pulling motion.

  
The combination of the warmth and the size of Harry's hand made Louis want him even more. The way his lips never strayed from his body, not once. If he wasn't kissing Louis' lips, he was pecking his stomach or sucking his neck (probably littered with his hickies). Louis came into Harry's hand with a loud, pleasurable moan that Harry couldn't help but laugh at. Harry would later tell Louis that he looke vulnerable, and Harry's heart fluttered the way he licked his lips.

  
Harry wiped his hand on his shirt, rewrapping Louis' towel around him with one last peck. When he pulled away, Louis face resembled that of a depressed puppy.

  
"What's wrong?" Louis said breathlessly, a small pant escaping with his words. Harry was trying his best to ignore how hot he looked with his pouting lip, instead throwing Louis his clothes. "Won't you let me return the favor?"

  
"What I want from you is better given in a bed."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot starts to come in

They almost crashed the car. Six times, not that Louis was counting each time his heart would leave his chest from fear. Maybe they should have stopped giving each other feel ups in the car, but both of them were way to horny to even think that thought.

  
Harry's hands fumbled with the keys as Louis made one sloppy make out as they waited for the keys to be removed. Once they were, they both raced into the building with too many hickeys to be rated pg-13. Luckily for them both, no one was awake at twelve at night, so they moved swiftly to Louis apartment after the few seconds it took for them to talk it trough.

  
They had completely forgotten Zayn, who was at home with Liam when they made their entrance. Both of the boys turned to face te couple, Liam grimacing and Zayn groaning.

  
"Seriously? You have to fuck here?" Zayn sounds tired, like they did this all the time. Which they didn't, sadly enough.

  
"Mhmm." Louis tried to project his muffled wlrds while he pushed Harry up against the wall. Harry was smiling, Louis could feel it, and he couldn't help but smirk himself. Zayn had brought home enough fuckee's, Louis needed to make his own tally count. His hands were roaming over Harry's clothes, his fingers sometimes skimming the skin that would show when his shirt rose.

  
"Jesus fucking Christ. Your boners make this fucking weird, mates. Come on Li, we can finish this movie at yours. See you two fuckers after you clean up." Zayn and Liam both stand from what Louis heard, the door clicking softly. Barley a second could fit between from when they had closed the door to when Harry was stripping Louis, and vise versa.

  
Thank god for the baggy clothes, they just had to slip them off. They ripped, clawed even, their way down to skin. Harry left Louis underwear on and louis took the sign that Harry wanted his on as well. Zayn was right, they both had fully erect lengths that bulged out of their underwear. With the clothes lying in the floor in all different directions, they made their way to Louis' bedroom. Thank god he had prepared for this night. He had cleaned his floor, washed the sheets, he had done everything to make the flat look good.

  
Louis gently pushed Harry down onto the bed, scooting up so he could cradle Harry's hips with his bare and sweaty thighs. Harry lenout a breathless giggle that Louis couldn't help but repeat, his throat tickled from the noise.

Louis fumbled with the hem of Harry's underwear, pausing slightly before continuing. Harry helped tear his down, tossing the pairs of linen to the ground. He was purely amazed at how hot Harry was and looked.

From the lust in his eyes to the pricking sweat on his back, Louis couldn't decide what made him hornyer. The small grunts and moans that he emitted made Louis mad with his need to fuck Harry. Since when did Louis get a hot guy under him, ready to fuck? Since when did he hit gold and win yhe prize of this lanky boy? He didn't know. All that he did know was that he was going to fuck Harry till he couldn't walk.

  
"Lube." Harry uttered, he voice barley audible over the noises they made. Louis broke the bind their lips had, opening his eyes and reaching to his nightstand. He grabbed a bottle, bringing it to his side as he showed Harry the bottle in the dim light. It was small, he had quickly picked it up at the store because he knew he would need it for tonight. He had never been so grateful for self-service in his life.

  
"Got it." With one quick breath Louis was back to straddling Harry, all but sucking his soul out of Harry's mouth. "Turn over."

  
Harry followed Louis' order, flipping himself and showing his rather amazing looking arse. Louis stared for only a moment before putting the lube into the palm his hand. He hated the feeling, it was cold and slimy and not the sex object he thought it was. But once he had coated his length and Harry's entrance with the cool slime, it felt relaxing and just right.

  
Louis situated himself and Harry, wiping his hand on his sheets once he was done and curling them around Harry's hips as he thrusted into Harry. They both moaned with pleasure, all the sexual frustration finally being lessened. It was a sensation they had been waiting for for the whole night, and if felt just as wonderful as Louis had expected. His grip on Harry's hips tightened as he rocked into the younger boys body. Louis dug his short nails into the porcelain skin, his hands gliding down te smooth skin. Harry couldn't help but moan, pushing back into Louis for the friction they both desiered.

  
"Oh fuck Louis." He growled, back arched. The way he said the words, the tone, he sounded like a hungry animal. And that only turned Louis on even more. "Oh...oh god...fucking hell." Harry muttered with every thrust Louis made. Louis' own moans filled the air, his body aching for Harry's.

  
"Harry...so good...so warm. You're so...perfect." Louis panted, his grip tightening even more. He was sure to have bruises, that was for sure. Louis knew he had love bites from Harry and the thought if having them in the morning made him giddy. They would prove that this night had actually happened and it wasn't just a picturesque dream.

  
Louis felt pleasure with every push of his own hips, every rush of blood, every droplet of sweat that rolled down his skin. Sex with Eleanor was never this good. Ever. Even when he was drunk and high out of his mind, something was always missing. And this was way before he even gave a bloke a second glance. Now he knows what it was. He wanted Harry. He wanted pectorals, not breasts. Stuble, not blush. Dick, and never vagina. Maybe it was the heat of the moment and the fact that he had been sex deprived for almost a month, but he felt that Harry was the missing piece to his puzzle of happiness. 

 

"Oh god Louis...I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum." Harry let out his last groan of pleasure, synced with Louis', as they both climaxed. Louis had never felt anything this good, this right in his life before. He wouldn't have been surprised if fireworks went off in the distance with the way it felt to him. The pleasure didn't stay with his length, it surged through his blood stream and into every one of his pores.

  
They both collapsed onto the bed with heavy sighs that were accompanied with pants. Louis couldn't help but smile at the way Harry looked. Prickled with sweat, eyes wide as they stared at the ceiling. He looked perfect. Come to think of it, he was perfect. Perfect to look at, perfect to talk to, perfect to fuck. How did he even gain him as a boyfriend?

  
Louis wasn't arm candy. He was short, and his stomach poked out no matter how much he ate or how often he excercised. He was snarky and rude most of the time, scaring away any person in ten feet of him. So how did Harry get drawn into his whole of imperfection? He was a model for gods sake!

  
His cheekbones, the eyes, everything about Harry Styles screamed photoshop. It was like he was born being crafted by angles, sent down in a basket woven of gold. Even with his good looks, his personality was just as equally attractive. He forgave and forgot, that was more than Louis could ever do. He was just perfect, Louis couldn't say it enough.

  
"I love you." Louis finds himself uttering the words, soft and whispy in the steamy air. Harry turned to look at him, his eyes holding an emotion Louis had never seen in him before. Placement, maybe? Reason? Louis couldn't place a finger on it.

  
"So round two then?" Harry rolled over, already sucking on Louis neck with intent.

  
"Oh yeah, round two."

 

* * *

  
They had gone at it four times. Four times in one night. That's a record for Louis, that's for sure. Everytime they finished, the other would ask for more and they were more than happy to comply. They had waited almost a month for this, they deserved as many times as they physically could achieve.

  
It was nine in the morning when Louis woke up. The flat was cold and Louis was thankful for his personal heater currently curled into his side. As cute and fuckable as he looked as he slept, Louis had to refrain. He needed to brush his teeth, that was for sure. His mouth was dry and tasted weird, maybe from the sloppy blow job. Either way, Louis needed to freshen up.

  
Louis tried his best to move out of Harry's firm grasp without waking him. He ended up doing so with a moan of sadness from Harry, who tightened the duvet around his large frame unconsciously. Louis watched his delicate features, his peaceful look. He was a jem, awake and asleep.

  
The way all his tattoos stood out against his pale skin, how his hair curled ever so nicely around his ear. Everything was Louis'. He could touch his tattoos, kiss his lips, Louis had free acess to Harry and the thought gave him chills.

  
When louis had made his way to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, he looked tired, which wasn't a surprise. He brushed his teeth, staring at his face in the mirror and replaying everything that had happened the night before with his smirk growing with every thought. He spit out the foam, washing his face with a few splashes of cool water to wake him up. 

 

When he slipped back into his room Harry was still sleeping soundly, his snores coming out in soft purrs. Louis smiled at the figure, slipping into a pair of boxers and his sweats before closing the door on him.

  
The rest of the flat was chilly, his arms getting goosebumps and his body shivering randomly. To fix his problem, he brought out the kettle. He filled it and put it on the burner, grabbing a blanket off the couch and the remote. Louis wrapped himself in the blanket and turned the Telly on to the news. He made sure to keep the volume down, he was makin enough noise as it was.

  
"You are one good fucker, Tomlinson." Harry popped up behind Louis and gave him a small kiss on the ear. His voice was thick and raspy from sleep, almost like liquid sex to Louis. The volume must have been to loud, oh well.

  
"I'm happy to have impressed the great Styles." Louis remarked, holding the blanket open so Harry could snuggle into him. He had slipped on his shorts from the night prior, which was fine-ish. Harry being naked would have been better, he had only seen him bare in dim lighting.

  
"You say it like I'm some sort of slut." He laughed, curling tighter into Louis. "Jesus, it's colder than a grave slab in here."

  
"I put the kettle on if you want to go get us some tea. Yorkshire, please." Louis pushed up him as the kettle statue to whistle. Harry groaned, getting up with a huff of complaint. Louis laughed to himself as Harry fumbled around the kitchen.

  
Harry was mid way through pouring their cups when his phone was buzzing on the table. Louis curiosity took over him as he answered the call. He didn't say hello, but the person on the other end just dive right into the conversation.

  
"Hazza! Long time no speak, mate!" The voice was chirpy and loud, two qualities that don't go good together.

  
"Harry's in the loo, could I take a message?" Louis tried his new to not giggle. He was going undercover, answering his phone calls like a secretary.

  
"Oh sure. This is Nick Grimshaw and I wanted to know when Harry was open to fucking." Fucking? What?

  
"Since when did you two fuck?" Louis voice wavered a second, Harry still humming unknowingly in the kitchen.

  
"Oh I don't know, a few weeks ago, maybe three? He's a right good shag, that's for sure. Can't peg him down though, a'shame it is." The other man, Nick, laughed.

  
"I'll tell him. Bye." Louis was still in awe at the information as he clicked the call off. Harry was cheating. Harry. Of all people. Was cheating. How in hell did he get sucked into this again?

  
Harry was perfect. But I guess that's his downfall. He's too good for Louis, at least that's what Harry thought. He needed to fuck one guy while he waited for Louis to take his long ass time to get comfortable with being gay. How could Louis be so stupid? He should have realized this when Harry took him to slowly. No one could wait that long, so of course Harry needed someone to let out his need for sex with.

  
When he sat the phone down, Harry was already making his way back to the couch. Louis tried his best to not show the look of disgust, of betrayal, he was feeling inside. He knew why Harry was so patient. It wasn't Harry being sweet, it was Harry being preoccupied with someone else.

  
"What's wrong babe?" Harry furrows his brows, setting the mugs down on two coasters. Louis doesn't open the blanket up for him, instead stared back at the two green orbs that he used to trust.

  
"Who's Nick Grimshaw?" His voice sounded like acid to himself even, but he didn't care. Harry's look softens slightly, like he knew his secret had been discovered.

  
"Just a friend. Why?" Harry turned even more to face Louis, reaching for the blanket that Louis wouldn't let go of.

  
"We'll he just called. He wanted to know when you wanted to fuck next." His anger bubbled into his words like a pot boiling over. He couldn't hold it in, bursting. "Who the hell does that Harry, just fucks his 'friend' when has dating someone? Who the fuck is that impatient?!"

  
"Louis I can explain..." He starts, eyes castes towards the carpet.

  
"The fuck you can. I trusted you, I was letting you lead me. And before I know it, your already sick of me and fucking some other bloke. Your a real fucking loser Harry. I loved you, I let you in! And this is how you repay me? Cheating on me?"

  
"Louis I don't know what I was thinking. I just didn't want to push you." His face had went to a strangely calm setting. "Louis..." The way he said his name sent horrible shivers down his back.

  
"We'll I'm pushing you. Out. Get out." Louis stood, throwing Harry's phone towards the door with his split second of anger. He dropped the blanket and went to the pile of clothes Harry had in the hallway and threw them towards the door as well. "If you left anything ill put it on the doormat. Leave."

  
Harry's face looked scared and shocked. What else was he expecting? Acceptance, love? As if. He trusted Harry, one of the first people he thought wouldn't hurt him. But he did, and Louis wouldn't forgive that.

  
"Delete my number. Ill delete yours." Louis shoves him out into the hallway, Harry's arms holding all his things. He looked like a kicked puppy, a dying dog that was left out in the rain. But he didn't care. He couldn't. No more thinking of Harry Styles. He needed to move on, seeing as Harry already had.

  
Louis slammed the door with all his force, the hinges shaking and the floor absorbing the vibrations. Tears were already spilling down his cheeks in warm, salty streams. His mouth could no longer hold in then shaking sobs that rocked his body. He was broken. Not damaged, but broken. Harry had fixed him, then torn down all the tape and stitches to let him bleed.

  
Before he could forget, he got his phone off the counter and unlocked it. He clicked the buttons till he was hovering over Harry's contact.

  
Hazza bear.

  
His mind was taxing, begging for Louis to erase the number to help him heal. But he couldn't. He couldn't let go of Harry, he just couldn't.

  
He set the phone down on the counter and slid down the wall to sit in a fetal position. How could this have happened? Harry loved him, or so he thought. He knew he loved Harry, that was a fact that he wished was an opinion.

  
He loved everything about Harry. The way he sings in the shower like no one could hear his loud blurting of random songs. The way he would rub designs into Louis stomach when he couldn't sleep and thought Louis was. How he could just be watching movie and Louis heart would flutter when his hand inches to heaps Louis.

  
All those little things that Harry did, all of them made Louis fall even more in love with him. Louis loved Harry. But now it was obvious that Harry didn't even love Louis the same way back. How could he have done this to Louis?

  
He knew Louis was new to being gay, that e was scared. Harry must have heard the slurs, the shouts they got when they were out in public and holding hands. The way Louis would tense afterwards. Harry had to have heard the way his breath hitched in the back of his throat.

  
Or maybe he just didn't care from the get go.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I made Louis and Zayn childhood friends but they are in this chapter so yeah. Maybe I made the resolution too quick, but I think it's okay.

 

"You have to eat something Louis." Zayn was shoving a bowl of homemade soup into his hands with a fake sympathetic expression. He had lost his pure sympathy after the first week of the moping, now he just wanted Louis to get better.

  
"I'll eat it later." He plucks it out of Zayns hands only to place it on the coffee table. Louis hadnt strayed from his spot on the couch except to use the bathroom. He had brought his duvet out, aging that his room was filled with too much Harry memories and that if he had to sleep it would be on the couch. If he wasn't crying, sleeping, or day dreaming, he was watching shit tv. It pissed Zayn off all the time, yet Louis wouldn't change it.

  
"See? He's going to whither away on me!" Zayn groaned, sitting back down next to Liam. Liam had started coming over more and more since the horrific breakup. He was the only one who would help Zayn out with Louis. Maybe it was because they were dating now, but either way Liam treated Louis like a little brother which was helpful.

  
"You-know-who isn't any better. He's stopped drinking now, which is good. Two Niall's is horrible. But now he won't talk to us, he just sits in his room and stares at his phone. Sometimes we hear crying, yelling, music. He's more screwed up then Lou here, and with good reason too." They had stopped saying Harry's name after Louis went mental on them one day. They had learned to talk gingerly around Louis, usually pretending like he wasn't there. And most of the time, he wasn't, but when he was all they talked about was him.

  
"Do you know what even happened?" Zayn rubbed Liam's arm as the cuddled, a sight Louis was desperately not trying to cry at. He missed Harry's warmth, his cuddles, his inhuman sized hands. Zayn had noticed his flickering eyes and let go of Liam. Liam understood, they all did. Louis was a mess and a walking time bomb.

  
"He cheated on Louis with Nick Grimshaw. Well not cheated, seeing as it was in those two weeks Louis ditched Harr-him." Liam watched Louis for any reaction to his stumbling words, and when he didn't get out he exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding.

  
"Hmm" Zayn hums at liams words, silently agreeing. He pushed the soup closer to Louis. "Love you need to eat."

  
"Maybe the reason he cheated was because I'm fat." Louis head snapped to Zayn, eyes blazing. "Maybe if I don't eat he'll come back."

  
"Louis that's shit and you know it. You're fit, not fat." Zayn scoffed like it was obsurd, like he knew Louis could never be fat.

  
"Then what do you call this?" Louis stood abruptly with his hands holding his small stomach. It was considerably smaller, that's for sure.

  
"A lack of food? What am I supposed to be calling it?" Liam's eyes were moving between Louis and Zayn, watching the small fight play out.

  
"Wrong, it's fat. I'm fat. That's why he cheated, he hated my fat. I bet Nicks skinny. And hot too." Louis falls back into his small cocoon of duvet and stares blanky at the Telly.

  
"Dont be so dramatic, you're not fat." He heard Liam's words but didn't care. Liam didn't understand that he wanted to be perfect. For Harry, for himself. Louis knew he was no where near perfect enough for Harry, which he sadly accepted. "Besides, he did cheat on Harry as well." He ment for that to be a whisper to Zayn, but it came out louder than he thought.

  
"Liam..." Zayn shook his head at Liam to tell him to drop it before Louis heard. Too late.

  
"I didn't fucking cheat. He brought me to a gay club to fuck a guy. Not cheating in the slightest." Louis' tone was threatening, like he would break Liam's nose to save what little self pride he had left. "But we weren't dating so it doesn't went remotely count as cheating."

  
"Guys lets leave it..." Zayn was reffing their fight, how cute. But neither boy was going to give up.

  
"No, he's blaming Harry for all of this when its a two way street!" Liam exclaims, "Harry was with Nick for the two weeks Louis ignored him. That's not cheating, it's called moving on. Louis started all of this when he ditched Harry. He's been moping over his own mistakes for a bloody week and blaming everything on Harry, who is the only one who can be sad right now."

  
"How is he the only one? Are you saying I wanted this to happen? That I wanted to find a reason to kick him out?" Louis was ready to tear liam apart.

  
"Because he's losing his best mate and his lover, that's how. He's crazy over you, I should know seeing as I live in the flat that he's sobbing in right now. You find any reasons to push him away because your scared. Scared of what, I don't know. But you need to get your shit together before you realize it's too late and Harry has moved on." Louis didn't think before he heard his fist make impact with Liam's face. A bone crunching, sickening sound that Zayn swore loudly at. Liam pushed Louis out of the way and into the coffee table, growling with pain.

  
"Louis what the fuck?" Zayn grabs him by the shoulder blades and pushes him back onto the couch. He springs back up to push Liam and his bloody nose out.

  
"Leave. Your no longer welcome here. Don't come back." And he slammed the door just like he had for Harry. The memory hurt his head and he then realized the intense pain in his fist. Cracked knuckles, he had crackled knuckles. Ouch.

  
"Jesus fuck, Lou. You ruin everything." Zayn pushes him against the wall and runs out to get Liam.

  
He just punched Liam. In the face. He had just injured Liam, his flatemates boyfriend. And now his flatmate just insulted him and left him alone. This information kicked in with a horrible fit feeling.

  
You ruin everything.

  
Zayn, the guy he's lived with for years, just told him he ruins everything. Now he's hated by his best mate as well. Louis not surprised.

  
The sad part was that a majority of what Liam had said was true. He was going to let the best thing that has ever happened to him slip through his fingers. And over what, him fucking a guy when Louis gave him the cold shoulder? That seemed a little childish. But to think he was looking for reasons to push Harry away, that seemed off. He loved Harry, he knew that. But he was new to this, didn't he have a right to be scared?

  
Even though he was scared, he could feel a small part of him didn't feel certian. Like Harry would grow sick of him and leave him for someone better. And maybe he pushed Harry away so he could control when Harry felt like he didn't need him anymore. Immature maybe, but he doesn't need a repeat.

 

* * *

  
_"Lauren, babe, what's wrong?" Louis was siting on the couch in her room and watched her pace in front of him. It was a rainy afternoon on a Saturday, Louis still wearing his rain coat. He was sixteen, his hair still damp from the hard pouring rain._

_  
"Just wait, Louis, for fuck sake." She snapped at him, eyes piercing his own as she paused. He nodded and looked at the ground, her pacing continuing. Why was she so angry with him? He didn't do anything at the party that would hurt her. "I just need to think."_

_  
"Please tell me." Louis pleaded. She gave him one hard look before falling down next to him and hiding her face in her hands. "Lauren?"_

_  
"I've never loved you. At all." She blurted, turning to look at Louis with emotionless eyes. "I've been using you to get close to your friend, Sam. He likes me as well, and im dumping you."_

_  
"Wait." Louis didn't understand. What? "You only dated me for Sam? You knew I have had a crush in you for years and you date me for months for what, to get into Sams pants?"_

_  
How long had she been playing him on? And better yet, how long was she thinking of letting it go on for? She knew about his crush on her, everyone in the school did. But Sam? Sam wouldn't do this to him, they were football buddies since kindergarten._

_  
"That's pretty much it. It's not like you were in the dark about it. I mean I sit next to Sam at lunch instead of you, isn't that apparent enough? Besides, no one could love you. Your not funny, hideous, and can you say wannabe haircut? This is why no one has dated you since whatever her face is and why you won't get anyone good." She shrugged at her words, flipping her phone on and texting. "And fat. How can you be that fat when you so footie? Call down on your chips mate." She laughed._

_  
Louis stared at her face with his face screwn into a face of disgust. Now he knew why she was called Lucifer Lauren. And all those insults? He had always been self conscious, and she did contribute to that with her hovering 'don't eat that Louis, eat an apple' or 'that joke sucked your not funny'. Now he knew why she did that, she hated him._

_  
To think about it, she had always made his life a living hell. For whatever reason, she made sure to pick on Louis in their friend group. She would use him as a punch line for all her jokes, she would make everyone laugh at him. He would pretend to laugh, but inside he just wanted to disappear. Only Zayn actually cared about him, and he never laughed. One out of twenty friends, he only liked one out of twenty people._

_  
"How could you so this to me? How could you be so cold?" He tried to hold in the tears that were prickling his eyes as she looked up from her phone to glare at him._

_  
"Louis they call me Lucifer Lauren for a reason. I'm cold because I want to get what I want, and you're in the way right now. So I'm telling you everything about you that sucks, and trust me when I say I could go on." She rolled her eyes and went back to her phone. "You can go whenever you want, Sam's coming over and it would be awkward if you stayed."_

_  
He stared at her, contimplating whether to slap her or leave. Still being the decent person he was, he left before he could piss her off and screw himself even more. He was going to have to find a new group of friends, a new place to sit in his classes and at lunch because he couldn't see Lauren anymore. He was done with her and her negativity, he was through with her._

_  
He was at the front door when Sam was coming into the house. Louis glared and shoved him against a wall, his anger having to come out on someone. Sam pushed back with more force, sending him flying out the door and into the rain._

_  
He stumbled to his car and waiting till he was in the dry interior before he let himself go. His tears fell slowly as he backed out of her driveway. Louis pretended not to see them making out in her widow, a shaky hand raking across his face to dry the constant stream of tears._

_  
The ten minutes couldn't have even longer, the time spent with Louis playing the situation over in his mind while sobbing quietly to himself. He could barley extract his keys when he pulled into Zayns parking lot. Louis stumbled and wobbled his way to Zayns front door and face it a soft knock. He didn't mind waiting, the rain was cool and helped disguise the lines of tears that were stained onto his cheeks._

_  
"Hey Lou- why are you crying?" He pulled Louis in without a second thought and found him a towel for his drenched clothes. He didn't even notice that they dripped onto Zayns tile hallway, puddles at his feet. It was even worse when he took of his shoes, a heavy stream of water pouring out. It's a perfect outfit to show his feelings, sad and cold and wet. "Take off your clothes." Zayn handed him a baggy shirt and a pair of sweats, a pair that were too long for Louis but he didn't complain. The dry clothes gave him temporary happiness before the reality of his life slapped him across the face._

_  
"Lauren told me every flaw I had and dumped me for sam." The tears were mixed with the drippings of his hair and he just didn't care anymore. "I just need to play FIFA." He took the towel and ruffled his hair, the droplets were making the shirt wet._

_  
"Okay bro." Zayn knew Louis didn't like talking about his feelings, he didn't like saying anything. Zayn just handed him the controller and pretended not to notice when he would pause the game and cry into a pillow._

_  
"I told you so." Zayn muttered with a small bark of laughter._

_  
"Oh don't be a twat." Louis let out a shaky laugh, play punching him in the arm. Thank god for Zayn, the guy who knew Louis like the back of his hand._

* * *

 

Louis stayed up, waiting for Zayn to come back. But he never did. The door didn't open, and Louis took that with sadness. Zayn didn't want to see him, be around him. Which he understood, he did punch Zayns boyfriend in the face. But the pain he felt in his gut didn't understand. 

 

He was alone again. Except the first time, he still had Zayn. Now he was all alone in a flat that was too cold and a throbbing hand he didnt know how to fix. Did he really deserve this? All this pain over a boy who he kept pushing away? Shouldn't he be used to this after all the breakups he's had? All those questions went unanswered, to his dismay.

  
He ended up turning to cartoons and letting the show fill the flat with noise. The quiet scared him, it screamed that he was alone. He even tried to make tea, but his right hand was unusable so it didn't work well. I was eleven thirty when he decided to try and sleep. But this time, he couldn't stand sleeping on the couch. He had to man up and face his own demons.

  
Louis ended up cautiously shuffling into his room, weary about the one room he hadnt entered in a week. He needed a little Harry right now, a little less pain as he smelt Harry's cologne on his side of the bed. Louis stripped down and crawled under the duvet and realized how much he missed this. Sleeping in a bed, being able to stretch out. The smell though, that was a downside.

  
Harry filled the room, like he left himself programmed into the furniture. His side of the bed still had his indent, the pillows rich with the scent of his shampoo. Every antagonizing breath through the nose reminded Louis of how much he missed Harry, how much he needed him and how much he fucked up.

  
But when reality kicked in, it hurt. It had been a week, he had probably already moved on from Louis. Now, he probably had a boyfriend who loved him and didn't need to go slow. Harry must be happy, getting away for Louis and his need to test the water before sliding in. Harry wants someone to cannon-ball in with him, and Louis just couldn't do that.

  
Louis gave up all hope as he slide into Harry's part of the bed. The pillows suffocated Louis with his smell, but he couldn't pull away. He realized he did miss Harry. Harry made him feel like he was someone better than he really was. Like an angel who hadnt fallen yet. And he needed that, he needed to be someone better than he waa because he wasn't too sure if he was happy with who he was.

  
Louis was running circles in the pillow case when he heard the front door open and close quietly. He took a few seconds to gather himself, running his hands over his cheeks to hide the small lines of tears. He peeked open the door before taking a breath.

  
"Zayn I know you're mad at me for punching Liam but-" Louis' eyes adjusted to the low light given by the street lights and other apartment buildings, and the figure wasn't Zayn. He flicked on the light after a second of a heart attack and had his eyes adjust to the light change. "Harry?" His eyes widened significantly before turning back to their dull and boring size.

  
His hair was surprisingly normal compared to the rest of him. His face was paler than usual, making the dark circles under his eyes stick out like blinking red lights. His usual light green sparkling eye color was now a dull and murky green, like an algae filled pond. He didn't look like Harry to put it simply.

  
And to think, Louis did all of this. Harry was like this because of Louis hard shell and stupidity. His heart clenched at the sight of the younger boy, his face looking to weathered because Louis had broken him. Did he break him? Or was Harry broken before?

  
"I was told to check on you. Everyone else is asleep." Harry says in a monotone voice, turning his heels and walking back down the hallway. His pace was slow, like he was waiting for Louis to tell him to stop and turn around.

  
"Harry, wait!" Louis gave into Harrys plea, savinf him just as his hand touched the doorknob. He stopped completely, yet he still stood facing the door. "Come sit, have a beer or something."

  
"I'm...I'm good. No alcohol please." He said, turning and watching Louis move around the flat with his eyes retaining a little more light. "You...you have no trousers." Like you haven't seen me with less, Louis thought.

  
"Yeah I was...I was just sleeping." Louis pats the spot next to him on the couch but instead Harry chose the couch opposite him. Louis wasn't surprised, he knew even speaking to Harry was a step up. Harry's eyes periodically flickered to Louis skin, and to save them both the embarrassment he pulled a blanket over himself. Harry relaxed, watching Louis with recording eyes.

  
"Sorry for waking you, just everyone was asleep and someone had to check on you." Harry's gaze was focused on something on his shoe, something Louis couldn't see.

  
"You guys check on me?" Louis scoffed, his own eyes staring at the younger boy with amazement. He looked duller, not as energetic as Louis had seen him last. He looked so much older, which was what freaked him out even more.

  
"Not usually, Zayns usually here with you. But since all the events that happened today, he wanted to stay with Li." Harry shrugged, "and how's your hand?" He nodded his heads to Louis fisted hand.

  
"It's fine," he lies, looking down at the crusted blood and strained skin, "look Harry I-"

  
"I miss you Louis." Harry interjects, eyes jerking to meet Louis'. "I haven't slept well this whole week because I don't have you there to cuddle with. I've been drinking excessively and I hate it but it helps me forget that you hate me as much as you do. I'm miserable, I hate this. "

  
"Harry I never hated you..." Louis broke their joined gaze and looked out the window to the buildings like they could save him. He just admitted he was miserable, miserable without Louis there with him. He couldn't ignore the racing of his heart at Harry's words.

  
"Then explain why me having an old fuckee is bad? I never cheated on you, yet here I am on my ass without the only person who made me feel important."

  
"I'm not the only person, don't exaggerate the situation." Louis shifted under Harry's strong stare. "Look, I've been miserable too but I don't think I'm...right for you."

  
"How could you possibly determine that without asking me?" His brows furrowed, his soft and chocolate curls shifting under the movement.

  
"Harry, I know that because you deserve better. You need someone who will jump when you jump. Ill stand and ask questions before jumping with you, and you don't deserve that." Louis spilled before he could clamp his mouth. Harry needed to hear this, he needed an explanation to why Louis wasn't right for him. 

 

"Louis have you ever stopped to think that maybe I need someone to ask me why before I jump? I need someone to hold me back because, if you haven't noticed, I have a habit of jumping before thinking." Harry spoke truthfully and it hurt Louis.

  
"Why can't you notice that I'm fucked up! I push you away every chance I can get because you deserve better. I'm a baby and your a teen, you have more experience than I could ever get and you need someone more on you level."

  
"God dammit Louis," Harry snapped, "I want you. I want questioning, imperfect, baby you. I don't want someone on my level, or someone to jump when I say jump. I want you and your flaws, your hesitations. Im in love with Louis Tomlinson and I don't want anyone else!" He said, sucking in a deep breath after his heartfelt rant. 

 

Louis stared back at the now lively Harry who sat across from him. His look of anger and confusion slowly dulled down to a face of concern and sadness. Louis had made him sad. The realization hurt, Harry of all people didn't deserve to be hurt.

  
"Really?" Louis voice was almost unaudible in the thick silence of the flat. Harry gave a small, thin smirk.

  
"Really." Harry nodded the words like he has never been so sure of something in his life. His smirk grew even wider and found its way to Louis face.

  
"Good." Louis stood and manouvered over to Harry's couch and took his largely missed hand in his own. "Because I want to get some good sleep."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know anymore

**Harry's POV**

  
Louis looked like shit. Well they both looked like shit, but Louis didn't even look like Louis anymore. His usual feathery hair laid limp on his head like even it was tired. His brilliant blue eyes looked more like faded paint now, the flickers of emotion replaced by a constant sullen look. Even his smiles were rare, and when you saw one it was either forced and fake or small and almost invisible.

  
Louis even looked smaller. His ribs protruded even more than usual, his arms looking like streched taffy. Even his stomach, one of Harry's favorite parts of Louis body, had shrunk. He just looked worn down, like he hadnt heard of fun since the 40's. 

 

But when he had stood and walked over to Harry, something changed. Like a switch was flipped and he found his reserve of energy. His eyes brightened, his step lightened, and even his ass looked happier, not that Harry was looking. Harry gave Louis' hand a small squeeze and Louis tuned to give him a wide tooth smile that literally made his heart skip several beats.

  
"It's kinda cold in here, sorry about that. Zayn turned it down because I wasn't using it." Louis shuffled to the thermostat and turned it up a little. Harry didn't mind the cold air, it would make Louis snuggle even closer into him.

  
"You weren't using it?" Harry allowed Louis to drag him to his side of the bed, he could see by the way the covers were that Louis was sleeping on his side, and the once giddy feeling he felt lessened. Louis really did miss him.

  
"Yeah, it smelt too much like you." He admitted with a slight blush. Louis snuggled under the covers and Harry quickly stripped down to go under as well. Without his clothes, the room was a lot colder, so he quickly wrapped himself in the duvet and scooter closer to Louis.

  
"So where did you sleep?" Harry went out on a branch and curled his arm around Louis torso. Louis didn't argue, he simply curled into Harry's body like they were molded for each other.

  
"The couch. Not as comfortable as it looks." His voice turned quiet, a small laugh escaping his lips. Harry missed Louis laughter, no matter how quiet or loud. It was like small rays of sunshine that warmed him from head to toe.

  
"Ah." Harry rested his head on the older boys shoulder and he let out a sigh of relief. "You don't know how much I missed this."

  
"Missed what, the cuddling?" Louis turner around so he could look Harry in the eyes. Even without good lighting, Harry could make out every single feature and freckle on his face. If he could paint, Harry would bet millions he could paint Louis face perfectly from memory.

  
"No, just being around you. Your laugh, your hair, your smell. I missed it all, every single part of you." Harry smirked at how corny he sounded.

  
"You sound like your from a gushy teen rom com." Louis returned his smirk, scooting closer to Harry so there was no space for either to move. And Harry didn't care. He loved being this close to Louis, feeling his heart beat in sync with his own. This would be his heaven if he could choose, late nights with Louis in his room.

  
"Hey, Love, Actually was an amazing movie and I won't deny liking it." Harry pressed a kiss to Louis forehead.

  
"It's just the girl in you." Louis shrugged, burrowing his face under the book of his chin. Harry laughed softly at the tickling sensation his hair gave him. "That brings out the man in me."

  
"Woman." Harry corrected, running Louis bare back with his hand. He traced incoherent patterns, he just wanted to hear Louis hum with affection.

  
"Woman what?"

  
"It's woman in you, not girl." Louis growled at Harry in a non threatening way, more like he was just irritated.

  
"Same thing. I'm sorry that I can't be perfect." Even though Louis laughed, even though he may have thought his words were a joke, Harry knew. He knew Louis was opening up, telling him that he wasn't perfect. He admitted it, and it hurt. Because he was. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and Harry definitely held Louis.

  
"Perfection is stamped on your pretty little forehead."Harry cooed, pressing kisses to his matted down hair. "It's etched into your skin."

 

"Then it's settled, ill get it tattooed on my forehead. Big and bold, like me." Louis returned the kisses, softly nipping at Harry's exposed collar bone.

  
"And it could be drawn with rainbow colors and it would have glitter."

  
"There is a line to what I'm willing to do for you Hazza, and that is over the line." Louis chuckled.

  
"At least there's a line." Harry felt his eyes getting heavy as he let out a soft yawn. "I think I'm going to sleep."

  
"Okay babe." Louis hummed softly, patting his chest with cold fingers.

  
It was strange, finally sleeping with Louis after a week of dreaming about it. It felt surreal, like in any moment he would wake up to cold sheets in his old bed. But as the minutes ticked on and he felt Louis' breath slow against his skin, he knew it wasn't.

  
He was with Louis again. A week though, that seemed short. Yes, he has nor ever will be one for waiting, but he feels something different when he's around Louis. Like no matter what happens, Louis will be there to squeeze his hand. And knowing that helped him sleep easy.

 

* * *

 

"It's been a fucking week, Lou! You're acting out because you haven't moved on!" Zayns voice boomed through the closed bedroom door, waking Harry with a startle. He rubbed his eyes and instinctively reached out for Louis, who wasn't there. The bathroom door wasn't closed, so he wasn't in there either.

  
"You were the one who told me to go back to him in the bloody first place!" Louis voice had an edge Zayns didn't, and it have Harry shivers. Louis never sounded this bitter, this mean.

 

"Well I wasn't expecting it to be this fucking quick!" Zayn replied in a softer tone, probably aware of Harry in the next room.

  
"And who decided to ditch me to mother his boyfriend? You did! If you came home and talked to me, maybe I wouldn't have let him stay."

  
"You let him stay?" Zayns voice rose loud again and Harry groaned into the pillow case. He isn't need to have this in the morning, and definitely not from Zayn. Zayn was scary, like the guy you don't want to find in an alleyway.

  
"Yes I did, because I'm sick of sleeping alone! I miss him and I love sleeping with him, okay?" A loud bang and Louis swore.

  
"God dammit Louis." Zayn referred to the bang, "Is he still here?"

  
"Yeah, why wouldn't he be? I'm not a heartless prick who kicks guys out." Harry could practically hear Louis eye roll in his tone of voice. Harry yawned, shifting under the duvet. It was freezing, his toes felt like blokes of ice. He knew Louis wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, so he stiffly got up and pulled on his sweats.

  
He half expected Louis to burst through the door after their conversation had ended, but when he didn't barrel through Harry thought it would be best for him to go out.

  
He creaked open the door, padding quietly to the kitchen. Louis was twirling on a bar stool, and when his eyes landed on Harry a smile bloomed on his face. He looked better for sure. His hair was combed and washed, face retaining a healthier glow, and his eyes had the emotion Harry missed.

  
Zayn on the other hand, he was standing near the fridge and glaring at Harry's figure, like he didn't know whether to say hi or to kick him out.

  
"Hey Hazza! Fancy a cup?" Louis flung his hand in the general direction of the kettle.

  
"Uh, sure." Harry sat down on the stool next to Louis. He expected Louis to get the tea, but instead Zayn poured him a cup with a sour expression.

  
"Sugar? Milk?" Zayns voice had a hateful edge, one that Louis didn't hear on account or him tracing patterns on Harry's knee.

  
"Two sugars and a splash, please." Harry said with a thin smile that Zayn squinted at. Rude, Harry thought. Zayn did what he asked, thankfully, while Louis stared at the side of his face.

  
"How'd you sleep?" Louis asked, hand leaving his knee so he could rest his elbows on the counter and state at Harry. He flinched when Zayn set his cup down, nodding at him to say thanks. He rolled his eyes, going back to his corner of the kitchen.

  
"I slept well, actually amazing compared to the last week." He smiled and sipped at the warm tea. Louis nodded, eyes flickering at Zayn as he went back to twirling. "And how about you, love?"

  
"Splendid. You're just as warm as you were a week ago." He smiled brightly.

  
"That's good, I guess." He returned the warm smile, avoiding Zayns glare that was coming from across the room.

  
"It is, I love the-" He was cut short by a small ringing coming from his room. "That's my mum then, I promised a chat. Ill be back in ten." He scurries back to his room and left Zayn fuming in the corner and Harry trying his best not to choke on his tea.

  
The silence was horrid. From Harry's periodic coughing from the tea going down the wrong pipe to Zayns purposeful throat clearing. Harry kept his gaze locked onto the fridge, not wanting to see the pair of eyes dicing and slicing him. But when he did sneak a glance, the look Zayn possessed had harder.

  
His eyes were piercing. Like they could see every wrong Harry has ever done, like he knew everything bad about him. Which was impossible, even Harry didn't know everything like that, but if it was possible Zayn was doing it right now. You would think harry killed his sister, the way his hazel eyes stabbed Harry over and over again.

  
"So are you going to say anything or kill me twice over?" Harry spoke up, staring at the fridge in front of him again instead of at Zayn's round daggers.

  
"I'll go will door number two." He threw his response like a curve ball that Harry could never catch.

  
"What's got your panties in a twist?" Harry glared in his general direction, "I've done nothing wrong."

  
"Except go back to Louis with your tail between your legs." His tone was poisonous, "we talked about this Harry, and you agreed to leave him be."

  
"We'll you two neglected to tell me that he was a walking, emotionless zombie. That would have changed things, don't you think?" He tried his best to replicate the sourness Zayn had but he fell short.

  
They had agreed on one thing. No Louis. They needed to spit the two up, they were like fire and candle. One was going to hurt the other, it was only a matter of time. And Liam and Zayn thought it would be best to tear the two apart. But what they didn't realize was that it was fires job to burn the candle, and the candle was supposed to get burned. Harry always thought he was the candle, as scary as the metaphor sounded, and Louis was the flame. It summed their relationship pretty good, at least to Harry.

  
"Not really. You two are ticking time bombs around each other, and we don't want to have to pick up your guts and get your molars out of the trees when one of you goes boom." Zayn was always too realistic, and that mental imagery didn't help his squeezy stomach. He did have a point, as much as Harry didn't want to admit it. But even if he was right, Harry still needed Louis.

  
"Well your happy." Harry rolled his eyes, "What, did Liam kick you out?" Harry snorted through his mug.

  
"No Niall did. We were too loud." Zayns voice had dropped to a low and quiet volume, losing its rotten tone. It took Harry almost a minute to piece the puzzle together and when he did he let out a groan. Bad mental picture.

  
"Seriously? Even with Liam having a broken nose? You two are too funny." Harry chuckled away the awkwardness, his tea shaking in his hands from the vibrations.

  
"We can't control the urges, you twat. Besides, he's going to see if Louis broke his nose or not. 'Round twelve or so." He glanced down at the clock and it read ten fifty seven. "But all sex aside, you two need to split for good. It's for the best, for all of us."

  
Harry hadnt thought that through. When one if them exploded, they would all feel it. Even Liam, Zayn, and Niall. They would be left picking up the mess, having to deal with the aftermath. Harry did feel guilty about it, but that didn't even come close to faultering the feelings he had for Louis.

 

"We'll I don't see that happening in the foreseeable future so you can fume your way to the doctors with Liam." Harry ditched his half full mug and went to Louis door before Zayn could sputter out his response or Harry make another snarky comeback. He knocked softly before entering in, being the personal space fanatic he was (not).

  
He was lying on his back on his bed and shaking his foot aimlessly in the air, twirling circles and lines. He looked hot, that was for sure. He lifted his head and saw Harry, smiling at him before going back to his conversation.

  
"Yes Mum, I told you I would. Say bye to the girls- oh they're there? Put them on." A small pause filled the room. "It sounds like my favorite group of booger munchers! - Yes, I'm fine. - No, I don't have a girlfriend. - Yeah Lottie Zayns still kicking, the butt munch. - okay, we'll bye girls! Louis loves you, and no Fizzie I won't get you a dog for your birthday." Another short pause. "Yeah, okay Mum. Say hi to Dan for me, I'll talk to you soon. Love you, bye." He clicked the button and sat up rapidly.

  
"Hi." Harry laughed, going to the bed and plopping down on his side, Louis arms falling onto his stomach. He pressed one soft kiss to Louis nose and his face crinkled ever so cutely.

  
"Sorry, it took a long time. My mom was trying to catch up on everything and then my sisters came in and caused a mess and-"

  
"You're cute when you talk about your family." Harry interjected with his goofy grin. Louis smiled back, pecking his jawline.

  
"You're just trying to get me to shut up by complementing me. It won't work." His eyes rolled as he accepted another kiss from Harry.

  
"Oh really?" Harry kisses his face rapidly and all over. "Is that a challenge?"

  
"I don't know, are you going to make it one?" His tone was dirty, and Harry could feel his heart race.

  
"I think I am." He laughed as he continued with his small love pecks. He moved from his cheek to his neck, making small multicolored hickeys there. Louis would periodically let out a giggle when Harry nipped him. "Your hair is so soft baby, silk couldn't compare." Yet another set of kisses follows tail. "And your eyes are picturesque blue, candies I could just eat."

  
"Harry." Louis moaned his name and Harry repositioned himself over Louis' small body. He used his hands and clawed at the shirts fabric, sending goosebumps and shivers up Louis' back.

  
"You have such big arm muscles baby, you could lift the world." He rejoined their lips and deepened the kiss. Louis hands found their way to Harry's hips, getting firm holds as Harry rubbed his hips into Louis with a soft moan. "And your lips are so plump and pink-"

  
"Fine,  win. Now shut up and fuck me."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys I am really, really, REALLY sorry for forgetting about this piece and leaving you all hanging. It just lost my interest and I started some other drabbles that didn't make it to the publishing page, but that's okay. I'm back now and trying so stay with me!

**Harry POV**

"Louis give it to me." His hand was outstretched and cupped for his wallet back. Louis shook his head, a wild grin on his face. Harry couldn't help but let Louis' contagious smile spread to his own face. Louis was on his knees, standing over Harry who was laying on the bed.

"I just want to see your baby picture, is all." Louis had already started to dig through the leather slots and pockets  and Harry pounced onto the older boy in hopes to get it back. It wasn't like the picture was too embarrassing, he was just naked in a bin placed in the sink. Pretty stereotypical, Harry thought.

"I said, give it back." He snarled into Louis' ear, nipping at it and sending chills over Louis' body. "Or no sex for you."

"Fine Mr. Grumpy." Louis handed it back with a look of defeat, fake defeat that was teased with a smile, his sad puppy dog eyes on full display. He pouted with his lower lip out, and Harry couldn't help but kiss it.

"Thank you." He said, well more hummed. Louis nodded and stood, his hand behind his back. Uh oh, Harry thought. He opened up the slot where his mum had stuffed the baby picture in (she did it so he wouldn't forget he was her baby boy or something) and found it empty. "Louis!"

Louis was already staring at the old film, squinting to see through the fading and scratched surface. Harry got up quicker than he thought he could, grabbing Louis wrist and then the picture. Harry didn't care if it was crinkled, he just needed Louis away from baby him.

“No sex tonight then." Harry stuffed it back into his pocket and sat back down on the bed.

"You're only going to be hurting yourself," Louis shrugged and fell into his space next to Harry, curling into his body. "And you were big as a baby as well, lucky."

"What?" Harry choked on his spit, lurching forward with a coughing fit that wasn't helped along by his own laughter.

"I'm just saying, you always had a lot to work with." Louis smirk was vocal in his words and he thoughtlessly tapped on Harry's side.

"Oh stop it. It's just the angle." Harry blushed, trying to stray Louis away from his baby dick.

"Whatever you say. I guess I won't find out, seeing as I'm banned from sex tonight." Louis sucked on Harry's soft spot, right between where his neck and shoulder met, and he could feel a moan pressing up his throat. Right as Harry was about to kiss him back, Louis stood and strolled out.

"Uuuugh." Harry groaned. Of course Louis would leave him hot and bothered when he told Louis no, that was to be expected. But he could feel his dick throbbing through his tight jeans and groaned even louder.

"Oh suck it up." Louis stuck his head through the doorway with a small chuckle. "I think it's best for both of us to slow down on all the sex. One of us will break something, and I personally don't want to be it."

He was right. Since a week and a half ago when they had gotten back together, they have shagged everywhere and anytime they wanted. This included blow jobs in the shower, messy kitchen sex, even a few handies while Zayn was asleep on the couch across from them. They would fuck a good three times a day, not including blow jobs and the occasional hand job. Sometimes, if Harry was lucky and Louis woke up early enough, Harry would have a good-morning blow to start the day off.

Harry waited for his erection to die down before joining Louis on the couch. He was watching friends reruns, a show Louis was addicted to and Harry thought was comedy gold. He slid perfectly into the slot next to him and cuddle into the smaller boys side. When Harry stretched out, his head was placed in Louis' lap and his feet overhung off the edge of the couch.

"I love you, you know that? You're perfect." Harry said quietly. He meant it, every time he would say it or press his mouth to Louis'. He was perfect, in every way, shape, and form.

"Don’t flatter me too much, I may just break my sex ban and suck you off right here." Louis joked lightly, hand stroking Harry's curls and twisting them around his fingers.

"No, I mean it. I love you and you're perfect to me." Harry turned so he could face Louis. He pretended not to notice, but his eyes flickered down from the tv and landed on Harry's.

"I know you do baby, and you know I love you too. I just...I just need to ease into the 'I love you' banter and shit, okay?" His tone had an edge that Harry knew. It meant Louis didn't want to talk about it anymore, and if you forced him into it things wouldn't end up well.

"Okay." Harry nodded more to himself than Louis and returned to watching the show. Louis continued playing with Harry's curls, twisting them and stroking them, rubbing circles on his scalp. Harry could feel his eyes falling heavy under the touch, soft purrs coming from his lips.

This is what he loved. Spending free days with Louis watching Telly and having sex, or his eating and talking about whatever strikes their fancy. The bar had become more of a pain for they schedules as Danielle needed Louis on one shift and Harry on another. Maybe it was for the best, Harry would probably pull Louis aside ten times a night to suck him off. He couldn't help it, Louis looked hot doing anything and everything.

And since he's hanging around Louis' flat more often, he's picked up on a lot more things. Like Zayn loves to cook yet hates cleaning, a really problem when you want kitchen sex and the counters are crowded with used pots and pans. And that Louis is a complete mess. Yes, Harry noticed it before, but not all of what Louis does. He leaves used condoms all over the place, his clothes pile up and don't get cleaned until he had absolutely nothing left and doesn't have enough money to buy clean clothes.

He also learned more about himself, as cliche as it sounds. He learned he liked early morning blow jobs, a lot more when he's getting them. He hates multigrain toast, Zayns breakfast every morning and Harry just can't stand it. He also hates how small Louis is, because Harry can't fit into any of his clothes or shoes. Louis can fit into his wardrobe no problem, and the large shirts hang off him in just the right way. But the one time he tried to shimmy into Louis pants, he almost got stuck. And his shirts? Belly tanks on Harry. Fuck whoever made him so lanky.

"You're thinking. What about?" Louis voice wafted into Harry's ear like a song and he smiled. Louis was still twirling and twisting Louis hair, stroking the curls in a relaxing manner.

"Just about the past week and how much you need a maid." Harry laughed and Louis' legs shook with his laughter as well.

"You'll look good in a maid outfit, that is, if your offering." Louis snickered and Harry's laughter bellowed even louder.

"I didn't know you had a maid fetish? And the answer is no, you'd be a better looking maid." Harry sat up and moved to look Louis in the eyes. He still held onto the same love and emotion he had when they first started dating, the same twinkle in his eyes at Harry’s small acts of adoration.

"And what would make me the better maid? My feminine features? My ass?" Louis smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes." Harry leaned in and kissed him. Louis chuckled behind Harry's lips and pulled away with a squeak of dismay uttered from Harry.

"Yes to what? My prize of an ass or my very girly hips?' He giggled again and Harry just couldn’t handle it. He pushed Louis down so his head was placed on the armrest of the couch and took his face in his hands. Harry couldn’t help when his hips rutted against the side of Louis’ body, and the smaller boy moaned at the action and placed his smaller hands into the mass of curls on his head.

“I want you,” He broke away from his lips and placed a kiss on his cheek, “to meet,” He moved down to his now stretched and eager neck, “my mum.” Harry pulled away to look Louis in his eyes.

Louis looked simply shocked, his lips formed into a suckable pout, his eyes wide from lust and surprise, and his hair messed in the most fuckable way. As much as his crotch yearned for the older boy, he had to ask now or never, it was one of those situations. He knew if he didn’t do it now, it would go unforgotten and it would never happen, which would be to both his and his mum's dismay. Harry’s mum had gone on non-stop about meeting his boyfriend over their frequent phone calls, and Harry was determined to get them in a meeting. It would also be a great opportunity for Louis to see Harry’s home town, and his childhood bedroom. Another twitch in his dick as he held onto the eye contact with Louis.

Louis look of surprise died down, “I…I don't know Harry.” He said quietly and squirmed under Harry’s piercing eyes. “Don’t know if I’m ready yet.” He tried to sit up and Harry moved out of the way to give him some room, which was what he was needing.

“Come on Lou, my mums been wanting to meet you for ages.” Harry pleaded with a softer, less intense look. “Besides, I can show you around town and you can see my old bedroom.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Louis’ serious tone broke instantly with a fit of laughter as he took the younger boys larger hands in his own.

“I know she has, and I want to meet her too, I just don't know.” He gave a sheepish smile that only made Harry give his hands a comforting squeeze. “Like what if she hates me? Thinks im a prick? Its just a lot to handle, you know?”

“We could wait, if thats what you’re wanting. Its all up to you babe, I don't want to push you too far or anything like that. I could always tell her to-”

“I want to go.” He interrupted with a devilish grin sprawling across his face.

“Well that was a quick decision. Care to let me into that pretty little mind of yours?” Harry tried to contain the smile that was inching its way onto his face at the pride and accomplishment he was feeling. Louis was going to meet his mum after all.

“I need to take more risks with you love. You can’t be the only spontaneous one in this relationship, it would get boring.” He pushed himself off of Harry’s hands and pulled him in for a passion filled kiss. His lips were feverish and ready for things to start off, sex ban or not. “I want to meet your mum.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed from third person (which was dysfunctional for me) to first. I hope it doesn't bother you guys. I also plan on editing through my chapters, if anyone hated my ipod spelling mistakes as much as I did. And finally, I'm sorry about the shorter chapters. I want to be able to update quicker and spread out the fic a little, so yeah. Have a nice read!

**Louis POV**

“She’ll like you, trust me.” Harry reached his hand over the console to give mine a comforting squeeze. “She already thinks you're the sun from what I tell her.” He takes his eyes off the road to give me one of his crooked grins that make his eyes crinkle and for a moment all my fears were flushed away. It only took till his eyes were back on the road again for the fears to crawl back into my head.

“But I’m not the sun or whatever, I’m a twenty-two year old bloke who shares a flat and works in a pub. Nothing about that screams boyfriend material.” My leg starts to shake as I try and make myself occupied enough to not think about the fact that I was five minutes away from meeting his mum. Mumma Styles as he called her.

“And you’re seeming to forget that I’m twenty, working in a bar, and also share a flat with not one, but two other men. You’re going to be fine.” He took a turn and my heart rate escalated.

“What if I’m too snarky, or if I make a joke that offends her?” I hadn't even thought about that, but now my eyes were wide with the fear. Meeting parents were never fun, and for me they proved to be more stressful than anything else. I bet Harry would charm my mum easily enough, but I would scar Harry’s mum more than anything. “She probably won't even like me-”

“Lou-” He tried to get me to stop, but my mouth just wouldn't stop.

“And then she’ll hate me forever and will never approve of anything-”

“Lou come on-” Another try at getting my mouth to stop moving at its bullet fast speed, failed.

“And then you would be on a bad foot with you mum and-”  
“Louis William Tomlinson!” His voice, raised and louder than I’ve ever heard him use with anyone and let alone me, shut me up quickly.

“Sorry.” I muttered and turned my head to my lap, fidgeting with my hands as the car grew an eerie silence.

“No, Lou, I’m sorry.” His voice was soft and gentle. “I shouldn’t have yelled. It was just you were starting to make me worried about all this and I didn’t need that so…” He trailed off as he pulled into a house driveway. I hadn't even recognized that we were here until he started to shift, unbuckling his seat belt.

It was a simplistic house, made of red bricks like the rest of the houses that went up and down the street. It had a small garden out front with shrubs and curved around the front of the house. It looked homey, and strangely like Harry. Simple yet perfect.

“I’m going to tell you now everything that you’re going to need to know to survive the Styles household,” Harry twisted in his seat to hold my hands in his, “My mum is a normal mum, so talk to her like she’s your mum because she feels like you're her son as well. She loves baking, so you could always talk to her about cooking. She loved to talk about me, something you both with have in common, and if you go into the living room you’ll see some baby albums of me that will make you laugh. Her favorite color is blue, like your eyes, and she’ll complement you on those as well.

“She’ll ask what you do, and feel free to tell her about the bar and some stories you find are funny because she’ll laugh at them for sure. Her favorite food is butternut squash, but she can talk about food for nonstop so try  not to get to that conversation category. If you want, you could tell her about yourself a little, but she won’t pry. She’ll love that you're sassy and quick on replies and she’ll laugh the loudest at those. And we have a cat, Dusty, so watch out where you step. And if you ever get uncomfortable, you can always escape to my room.”

I took a moment to process the information before I moved in to give him a feverish kiss. He knew I was worried, and he told me everything that would answer my questions. He knew what I was worried about and answered them for me without any hesitation. He knew me. He truly knew me.

“I love you Harry.” I whispered against his lips as I moved my hands to cup his cheeks. “I really fucking love you.” Another slow and passionate kiss before I pulled back and looked over him, the boy I called mine.

“Took you long enough to notice that.” He smirked and pressed another kiss to my lips before getting out of the car. “Come on love, gotta get inside before my mum comes out here herself. You know how mums can be when they haven’t seen their babies for a while.” He closed the drivers door and popped the trunk to get out our bags.

We would be staying for a couple of days, four from what Harry had told me, but I packed enough for a week. Harry gave me a skeptical glance at the size of my suitcase and I just shrugged him off. I packed all my larger shirts that I had ‘borrowed’ from him and a couple of jeans and sweats, knowing I would be dressing myself in his clothes most of the time anyway. Thats usually how I did things, packed my clothes but wore his instead.

It was the smell. The detergent he used plus his cologne and his shampoo, it made me weak in the knees. He just smelt so good, like nothing else I could ever compare it to. It was just Harry, and I loved everything about the lanky and clumsy boy.

I got out of the car to help him with my case, knowing fully he would try and do it all by himself but ignoring his insists as I took it in my hand. He just rolled his eyes yet gave me a kiss anyway, closing the trunk and moving around the car and to the front door. I swallowed my fears and followed in tow, my hand tightening on the handle to prevent myself from turning tail and running back to the safety of the non-mum car.

When he pushed open the door, the first thing I smelt was Harry. It was like he had never left, it smelt that much like him. Except there was something else in the air, something like cookies, but either way it was kinda creepy.

“Put your suitcase there,” He whispered to me, placing his case against the wall and I did the same as we both slipped off our shoes, “mum doesn’t know we’re here.” He giggled like a child. A fucking five year old getting away with stealing a crayon.

“Seriously?” I whispered with a more urgent tone. Now she would be really surprised, expecting just Harry but seeing a tag along. Oh great. “You fucking-”

“Mum!” He shouted. “I’m home!” And I would be lying if the shriek that followed his words startled me. She rounded the corner quickly and ran to her son, pulling him into her arms with a broken sob.

“You little rascal! You should have told me you were coming, I would have bought something special for dinner.” Her eyes were closed as she squeezed him and I felt a pang of jealousy, and awkwardness as I stood there with my hands clasped. “And who may this young man be?” She turned her attention to me with a warm smile, something that made my already clammy hands even more sweaty.

“Mum, this is Louis.” He pulled away to snake his arm around my waist with his award winning smile. The realization dawned on her face as she looked me over and a blush flooded my cheeks with the unneeded attention. Harry could sense my uneasiness and rubbed his hand over my hip.

“Oh my,” She moved forward and gave me a hug that I returned, “When he said you were handsome he really wasn’t lying. You are the swimsuit model he described you as. Kudos, Harry, very nice.” She let go of the hug and noticed my very bright cheeks and gave me a soft pat on the side of the face. “Don’t be nervous, I don't bite like Harry does.”

“Mum!” He groaned with surprise.

“Don’t tell me you grew out of that fetish?” Harry didn’t answer and only responded with sending daggers her way. “I guess he won’t tell me that, you probably know more than I do.” She shrugged her shoulders and started walking towards the kitchen. I already liked this woman, she was like Harry in so many ways yet not in other ways as well.

“Told you she would like you.” He gave my side a squeeze and pulled me with him into the kitchen. It was just as homey as the hallway, family pictures and nice decorations everywhere.

“I didn’t know you had a biting fetish Haz.” I giggled into his ear and he groaned. “Its kinda hot, actually.” He let go of my hip to run a hand through his hair with an eye roll.

“I was fourteen and she found my porn stash, so stuff it.” His cheeks brightened as he took a seat at the island and patted the stool next to him.

“Wow Harold, I would think you could hide it better.” I gave him a small kiss and allowed my hands to gravitate to his knee as his mother, Anne, coughed discreetly in the corner of the kitchen and brought us back to the current time.

“Gemma’s here, just so you know. She went out ten minutes before you did to do god knows what and I know she’ll want to see you both.” She nodded towards me with a growing grin and I could feel the blood rushing to my skin. “Could  I get you anything Louis, milk or wine or tea?”

“No thank you Mrs. Styles.” I cleared my throat and Harry gave me a comforting squeeze through the knee. A lot of comforting, which was very much needing, was coming from him.

“Please, call me Anne.” Another nice, motherly smile that reminded me of my own mother. “How about you boys go upstairs and situate yourselves and I'll call Gemma to pick up stuff for dinner. I’m assuming you’ll both be sleeping in Harry's room?”

“Yeah Mum, we will.” Harry answered for us both and stood, his hand in mine. “I’ll give him the tour afterwards, you just do whatever.” She nodded and started taking down a class for herself as we excused ourselves from the room.

“You go upstairs, second door on your left is my room, I’ll get the cases.” Harry gave my bum a tender slap and I squeaked and slapped him back as he ran to the hallway.

Second door on your left, second door on your left I thought as I climbed the stairs. Aligning the walls were young and teenaged pictures of Harry and who I assumed to be Gemma. They looked a lot alike, creepy almost, but I preferred to stare at Harry. He was just so adorable, his big cheeks and goofy smile with his younger form was just too cute.

I got to the second door on the left and opened it to reveal his room, a teenaged Harrys room. It was exactly as I how I had thought it would be. Footie player posters were all over the navy blue walls, band posters accompanying them on the wall space. He had weird little knick knacks on shelves and on dresser tops. His bed spread was a light grey that matched the carpet, a bunch of fluffy pillows on a twin sized bed, which would lead to a tight squeeze tonight. It was very neat, probably because of Mumma Styles and her affections for her son.

“Like it? Did it all myself.” He let out a sigh of relief as he dropped the cases with little regard for what was in them. “Make yourself at home.” He kissed my neck from behind and went to get something out of the bathroom.

“I can tell you did.” I smiled at the pile of old stuffed animals smooshed into a corner of his room and go over to pick one up. It was an orange cat, worn and tattered and with its tail hanging by a thread.

“Thats felix.” Harry came out of the bathroom and went over to the bed, arms open and asking for me to sit with him. “Mum got him for me when I was a baby, kept him ever since.”

I brought the cat with me as I took a seat next to him, “I can tell he’s been used nicely.” I laughed as Harry took him from my hands and started to play with his worn arms and legs like a puppet.

“He was.” He said simply, leaning against the pillows with a fond look, directed at the cat I presume. I moved onto my side and curled into his body, resting my head on his chest and hearing his steady heartbeat in my ear like the most constant thing it could ever be. Harry instinctively moved his arm to pull me closer, so there was no space and we were almost one being.

I let us both fall into a comfortable silence, him playing with the stuffed animal like the child he was inside, and me looking around the room. From the band posters to the pencils that were of different colors in the jar, I could just picture Harry.

I could see a seven year old harry with a big coloring book, the pencil scribbling harshly on the paper with special regard to the lines. Or a twelve year old Hazza, a hairbrush in hand and singing out to a band that was blasting through the radio in his corner. Maybe even a thirteen year old Harry kissing someone on this very bed, a girl or a guy. And as I laid here, my hand rubbing patterns on his shirt,  I had one question that just refused to go away.

“How did you know you were gay?” Louis blurted the burning questions before he could overthink the decision and say no to asking it. I could feel harry stop playing with the toy, the hand that was curled around my back halting in the patterns it was drawing there.

“I don’t really know.” He admitted with a thick laugh. “Its more a feeling, you know, like in your gut. You get butterflies for guys, not girls, and you find that some things girls do just freak you out and don't turn you on. And vis versa, some things guys do just make you fully hard.”

“Oh….okay.” I tried to sound confident, tried to sound like I understood, but nothing was really clicking.

“That didn’t help did it?” I shook my head and laughed slightly. “Lemme try again.

“You’ve only been fed chocolate cake your whole life. You’ve been told that its the best flavor, the only flavor good enough to eat and no other flavor is worth it. And you believe people when they say that, most of the time people are true and when people close to you say that you know to believe them.” He waited for my nod of understanding before continuing on. “But then someone starts to talk about vanilla. You’ve never had vanilla before, but it sounds pretty nice, and why would someone lie about cake? And when you think about it, you realize how you really don't find chocolate cake all that amazing like some people . So, you go out and try vanilla cake somewhere secret and you see how you love vanilla. Like, you love it so much you begin to question why chocolate even exists in the first place, thats how good it is.

“You think, damn this cake is the best in the whole fucking world.” His tone took a sour edge to it and his hand turned frozen on my back. “You want to show others vanilla cake, I mean others must want to try some if you love it this much. But some people think vanilla is wrong, its nothing like chocolate and shouldn't even be considered cake. You disagree, and you try to make them see, but they are so fucking clouded by the chocolate that they don't want to even think that vanilla may be good, even for a second.

“So they think your deformed, that your tongue is disabled or something. Which it isn't, not at all, you just can’t stand chocolate. People think that maybe you were just screwed up that one time, the one time you tried vanilla, so they try to force-feed you some chocolate. You think they may be right, maybe you just made it seem better than it actually was, so you try some more chocolate. And now it tastes sour, rancid, and you know for sure that vanilla is your flavor.

“Thats what finding out you're gay feels like. Everyone around you is enjoying chocolate and you’re the only one with vanilla on your plate. Some people think vanilla is okay, its not their flavor, but it doesn't really matter as long as you have cake. Others think you shouldn’t even be able to breath because, god forbid, you don't like fucking chocolate. And then you have the people who live and breath just for vanilla cake. I knew I was gay when I saw that I could be just as happy eating vanilla, happier even, than I ever was eating chocolate.

“I enjoyed the taste, the look, of vanilla. I mean look at you, you are the king of all vanilla cakes. Seeing you here makes me thank the heavens for vanilla in the first place, and it also reminds me that just because you think you like chocolate doesn’t always mean you’ve tried vanilla.” His words came to a close and I pondered the whole metaphor in my head. He was right, so, so right.

I really did love vanilla.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear more is on the way Im just lazy and the creative mode doesnt hit me when I have free time. Sorry guys!

"You know we're going to have to go down for dinner soon." Harry's voice was soft, his hand intertwined with mine on his evenly-rising chest while his other hand rubbed soft circles into my back. I groaned, realizing that he was painfully right. The air wafting through the small crack in his door was starting to smell like cooked dinner and it was inflaming my tastebuds, but I didn't want to move from my spot. Not only was his personality unnaturally warm, his body was as well, and he proved to be of use when my feet got cold or I needed something constant and steady, like his chest, to rest myself.

"I know," I sighed harshly into his shirt, "but I don't want to go just yet. You're warm." We both shook with bubbling laughter at my random side-comment.

“And your bare feet tell me that you're not.” He hooked his leg around mine to place his feverishly-warm feet against my frigid ones in his own little ‘you’re welcome’.

This was one of my ultimate favorite things about the younger boy. He would always be there to help me, even if it was just warming my feet. He would cook for me, make me tea, hell, if I asked him to go out and get me McDonalds he would have a notepad in hand. Harry was just giving, whether he knew it or not, he always wanted to help anyone out, and it was just an amazing characteristic that it gave me slight butterflies whenever the characteristic showed.

“Thanks babe.” I almost whispered into the fabric that laid loosely on his chest, and I could feel the large smile blooming on his face at my small recognition.

“Anytime.” He stated, moving his hand from my back to my hair.

After our rather heavy conversation we had happily turned to cuddling on his bed and having a soft silence hum in the air instead of our words. Every so often we'd say something, like just now, but I think we both enjoyed just the time together more than any conversation we could card into the quiet. We didn't have any music, so we could hear everything going on downstairs through the thin flooring (and I definitely didn't think about the problems of having loud sex in this house with Harry). Since we started cuddling a good thirty minutes ago, Gemma had come home and commented on Harry's car being in the driveway with a certain note of excitement rising in her voice, like a child talking about a birthday or christmas. We both unknowingly held our breath as Anne said I was here, to which Gemma said it would be nice to meet me with her excitement not as noticeable as before. That didn’t get to my head at all.

"What if she hates me?" I placed my chin on his chest to look him in the eyes, showing my seriousness and hopefully the nerves that were racing through my body. His eyes were placed on me with a look of admiration, of the unfiltered love I knew he had for me, intertwined with the evergreen fibers. The sheer intensity of his gaze caused my cheeks to burn, and I ducked my head back into the space on his chest while feeling his lips graze over my feathery hair.

"I thought we went over this." He gave a small chuckle. "My whole family will love you once they see how much you mean to me, I guarantee it with everything I have. Now Gemma is just going to be Gemma and give you a hard time. But you’re an older brother, so you should get where she’s coming from.” He’s referring to older-younger protection pyramid. I could faintly remember when Lottie had brought home her first boyfriend, I was sure I made him shit his pants right there. “And other than her want to scare you, you really have nothing else to worry about.” He twirled a strand of my hair around his elongated finger and sent involuntary chills down my back.

“I seriously doubt that will be the case Haz, I never get out of things that easy. You fuck me, they don't, meaning they get to see the actual me and not the me in bed.” I pretended not to notice the way his breath hitched in his throat as I innocently yawned into his tee, glancing at the clock and seeing it was only six.

“Louis, even if I wasn’t…er...fucking you,” He was being shy and cute and I could just blow him right here if it wasn't for the family below us, “I would still find you to be the most extraordinary person. That includes all of your sly remarks and you’re heavily guarded doors, and not to leave out your very bizarre sense of humor. I loved them before, and I love them now, and my family is certain to as well, seeing as we’re all Styles.” He pressed an awkward kiss on my forehead that gave us both small bubbles of laughter.

“I’d hope they live up to the family standards then.”

 

* * *

 

I would be lying if I said I was comfortable just sitting on the cold leather three-seater in the Styles living room. Well, I would be comfortable, if I only had Harry with me.

He was summoned into the kitchen to help cook, and he gave me very strict instructions to ‘relax’ and ‘watch some telly’ while he was away. Which wasn't going very well. I was on the second part of the episode that I was in no way paying attention too, I was just staring blankly at the screen to a point where everything was forming one big blob of changing color. I think I was watching cupcake wars, I think. I don't even know anymore.

I was wrapped like a burrito in a freakishly large blanket, undoubtedly belonging to the man himself, as for it was sizes to large for my small figure. And his lingering smell didn’t give it away either. The soft fibers were nice to my skin as I rubbed my face into it, every so often taking a large whiff of his dwindling smell and wrapping the fabric even closer to my body.

“Can I sit?” I shook my head so I would stop spacing, turning to see Gemma standing in the doorway with a pleasant smile drawn lazily on her face. I returned the smile, slowly drawing my face out of the blanket as if she wouldn’t notice my strange behavior, and feeling the blood run to my face.

I wouldn’t fight anyone on the fact that her and Harry were related. Even in her messy bun and pajamas, she looked fit enough to go straight on the runway. She proudly wore the London Uni shirt, her bottoms being of the same school. She was tall and probably more elegant than harry, her eyes not as bright a green as Harry’s.

“It’s your house, I should be the one asking that question.” I gave a shaky laugh at my

unneeded humor.

“Harry’s already claimed you as family, so technically you have the same couch rights as I do.” She gave a dazzling smile and a laugh that sounded almost musical. Yep, definitely Harry's sister. “Its nice to finally meet you, Louis, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t know everything about you.” She tugged on a corner of the blanket, international language for sharing, and I willingly loosened my grip on the fluffy blanket so she could have some as well.

“Harry loves to talk about me, doesn’t he?” I rolled my eyes as I heard him squeal in the kitchen as if on cue, followed by Anne’s contagious laughter, and we both shook with a similar sound.

“You have no idea.” She states with sounds of remorse that makes my eyes widen with embarrassment. But she didn't notice, glancing over at the telly while I cursed the curly haired boy. “What’s happening here? On the show.” She had turned back to me, adding the last part once seeing my dazed expression.

I shrugged with a growing sense of embarrassment, “Not too sure.” To hell with first impressions, I thought. Might as well treat her like a normal person and not Harry’s fucking sister who could be the downfall of my relationship. “Haz sent me in here a few minutes ago so he could help Anne with dinner, but we both know I know he’s just going to gossip about me, and I’ve been too spaced to really watch it, so I really don't know.” I look at her to see the widest smile humanly possible. It stretches to her cheeks, her eyes crinkling and her nose scrunched like a bunny. “What?” I pause to look at her over-responsive look.

“Nothing, really.” Her smile fades slightly but still holds the intensity. “It’s just cute, you calling him Haz and knowing him so deeply after such a short span of time.” My cheeks were starting to cool, but now they heated and I could feel them turning the brightest, boldest, stop-sign red as I moved my attention back to the telly for some kind of distraction.

“You both are insanely cute.” Her smile fell even more and turned to a stone cold temperature, “But I just want to make this clear, if you ever hurt him, which I know isn’t exactly hard for you to do, I will find you.

“You can be in the fucking states for all I care, I will find you. And when I do, I will crush your balls and cut them off and then I’ll stitch them to your forehead. Do we have an understanding?” Her eyes were daggers into my own, stabbing me time after time, all the while her smile being a sickly kind of smile that someone gives before they commit the murder spree of a lifetime. Her face looked to be dead set in stone and I couldn’t help to stop the chills that scaled their way down my spine.

“Cl-clear.” I cleared my throat with a little too much force as I tried to erase the squeaky noise that I emitted as my first note of the word, the pain dulling slightly as I took a few small breaths. I wish I was able to give this kind of big-brother talk, I could be unstoppable.

“Good.” She lost the cold-set face and  patted my knee, her smile regaining its width, and walked away. The blanket fell onto the ground as I watched, in fear, as she walked away. It made me think that if Harry lost all the caring he had, he could be one of the most intimidating, fear-striking person. He could master the cold eyes, hardening stare, hell, he could work out and get his bony structure to a more muscular frame.

“Shit Harry.” I snapped out of my stare to see her smack into Harry, a sudden crash of bodies in the entryway to the kitchen. They parted quickly, Gemma muttering something that I wa straining to catch, but I was struck by the look Harry wore on his face.

It was priceless to say the least. His face compacted, his nose scrunching as he squinted his eyes, mouth forming a thin white line. He reminded me of a scared kitten, prepared for something that really couldn’t hurt them but they thought it would be the end of the world. Which was how Harry was, an overeggagerating kitten.

“So you’ve met Gemz.”His face smoothed out and he even emitted a snort, his long strides bringing him next to me in no time so my grabby hands could find some G-rated place to grab him at. He plopped onto the cushion next to me and I was quick to conform to his lanky form, pressing my face into his chest. “Wow, easy tiger.” He laughed,  but accepted me nonetheless as his hand moved to my back and started the usual rubbings of soft circles on my back. I would tell him eventually, but I absolutely loved when he just held me close and touched me, even if it was the soft touches, because it was like ‘hey, I’m here for you lou’.

“Missed you.” I mumbled instinctively into his shirt, taking a deep breath and allowing his familiar smell to fill my lungs, a drug I had gone too long without. “And Gemma was...nice.” I wanted to make sure and use an appropriate word, because for all I knew she was standing in the hallway with her ears open wide.

He snickered at my precautions, “I was only gone for a little while, babe.” His hand slowly moved up, resting in my hair was he twirled a piece between his fingers. Yet another thing I couldn’t stand about the boy. If I ever got around to making a list, it would stretch for miles.

“But a little feels like a long time without you, babe.” I could feel his smile at the cheesy statement, my own smile hopefully apparent as I cuddled further into his body. “I know it was cheesy, hell, I regret saying it in that way. But it’s true with you Haz.” I was thankful that my face was smashed into his chest because I was positive that I was blushing enough red to fill a paint factory, and I was mostly certain that he was wearing that signature smirk that he was seemingly  never without.

“Of course you say that now when I can’t suck you off.” He whispered into my hair with a small laugh. I was caught off guard by his change of subject, smirking to myself as I moved my hand to float over the fabric on his groin. He barely stifled a moan, my laughter resonating through the room.

“Love you too babe.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's reletivley short and I think it's going to be one of the last chapters before I wind this work up. So stay tuned, and hopefully my updating patterns will become more loyal!

Dinner with the Styles was definitely different for me. But a same kind of different, if that made any sort of sense. 

“Harry, love, the beans are on the counter under the cabinet, can you bring those in? And the butter dish as well, that should be under the cabinet as well.” Anne was setting down napkins, pretty beige fabric with a dark brown design, placed on the white tablecloth the table was fitted with. I watched as she set them down, folding out the creases in the fabric before Gemma came around with her hands full of silverware. It brought me back to dinner with my family, except it was never this organized and well behaved with five energetic children trying to sit at the same table.

“Are you sure you don't need me to do anything?” I asked once again, my hands resting on the back of my assigned chair as I wished for something to do, my fingers tapping restlessly. I had asked time and time before, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask her again even if I knew the answer was going to be a no. Another family-time dinner habit, I was one of the only children trusted with carrying out the food dishes. So I found myself watching with wary eyes as they moved around the table with dishes in hand.

“She needs you to do nothing babe,” Harry came up behind me, his voice deep and playful as he graced my cheek with a quick kiss. I turned to see his hands full with the bowl of green beans in one hand while the other carried the butter, setting them down on the table with a smirk directed my way, “Just do nothing and look pretty like you always do.” I glared at him as he took his seat next to my chair, patting the seat for me to sit too.

“So what, I’m arm candy to you?” I rolled my eyes at the large smile he wore, unaware of the two other people who had found their way into the room who were watching us with heart-shaped eyes. I quickly took my seat, pretending like I didn’t know we had the company we did.

“I wouldn’t call you as much.” He giggled, a fucking schoolgirl giggle, as I slapped his leg under the table. Instead of taking away my hand, I left it there, and he slowly moved to snake his hand into mine. I looked up from his leg to see the other two Styles wearing gigantic smiles much similar to Harry’s, the blush immediately forming in my cheeks. Harry sensed this and gave me a comforting squeeze, a silent good luck to the night that laid ahead.

Anne cleared her throat with a smile and I was slightly saddened by her interruption, “Oh Harry, hush up and pass the chicken.” And he did so, reaching over me with a little too much of a lean so he could press his lips to mine in an utterly-obvious way. He was just showing off, I thought, and I think thats okay if it means more kisses.

“Here you go mumma.” He moved the plate over me, turning to his right to hand her the cupped plate of chicken before pressing a similar kiss to her cheek. He eyed me from the corner of his eye as he pulled away from her. “See, I don’t pick favorites.” Even Anne laughed at him, her laughter light and pleasant as she dished out her food.

“Of course you don’t, you wonderful saint.” I rolled my eyes again as his hand gave mine a last knowing squeeze before he dropped my grip. He knew I was nervous about this, and joking was one of the ways I ‘cut the awkwardness’ as he liked to refer as it.

“Always was a fair one.” Gemma snorted sarcastically as she took the plate of chicken handed to her and pushed some over onto her plate. “I don’t see how you can stand him as much as you do, he’s a right twat. All goody-two shoes and ‘I don't pick favorites’,” She did a horrible rendition of his voice, “Fucking annoying, I tell you.”

“Language.” Anne muttered under her breath, as if her motherly-commanded words would really stop the children of hers. If Gemma lived up to her first impression, she was a force to be threatened with, and her wit was almost as sharp as her brains. She also had quite the mouth, something Harry obviously didn’t gain from her presence.

“I don’t even know.” I laughed simply, “He kind of grows on you.” I took the plate that was offered to me, pan seared chicken that Anne had cooked up quickly, and took a couple of pieces for myself. I tried desperately not to look over my shoulder, for I knew that Harry would be wearing that god-awful smirk that he always seemed to have smeared onto his face. And if I looked over, I would gain the same look of affection.

“Like an infection?” Gemma hooted from her seat at the comment she weaseled in, biting into a but of chicken around her sneaky smile. Anne was watching this play out with the knowing mother smile of hers, gently picking at her plate.

“Something like that.” I giggled, trying to shrug off the smile I had while cutting up my own meal. I was trying not to acknowledge the pout Harry’s face was pulled into, but when he started squawking, I had to spare him an affectionate glance.

“I’ll have you know I am much more enjoyable than an infection.” He mumbled offhand. He speared a piece of chicken and bit it off the fork with more force than necessary in a way that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

Gemma jabbed her fork in my direction for attention, “Speaking of infections, I remember this one time when Harry-”

“No!” Harry’s voice overpowered his sisters that let everyone laughing. The kitten strikes back, I thought, “I told you those kinds of stories were off limits.” I shifted my eyes between the two, watching Harry’s face turn a deep shade of red while Gemma proudly wore the shit-eating smirk that must be a family heirloom.

“What kind of stories are off limits?” I stuffed another piece of chicken in my mouth as Harry just groaned. “What, I think I should know! Boyfriend and all.” I mouthed around the piece of meat.

“I said no embarrassing stories tonight, is all.” He shrugged, going back to his own plate with a new blush forming on his cheeks.

“Well how about this,” I paused to make sure his eyes were connected with mine, “We can do a trade off, one embarrassing story for another.”

“Harry, I got this one,” Gemma cleared her throat and Harry’s grimace returned, “Oh please, Loubear, please tell us /all/ about your embarrassing stories so I have even more reason to loooove you.” She was using a slow, deeper drawl that I knew was her attempt at imitating Harry. His eyebrows knit together as he stabbed a piece of food on his plate.

“I don’t sound like that.” His mumbled into his food, sounding like he was trying to convince himself rather than anyone else.

“Sure you don’t.” Her voice was leaking sarcasm as she rolled her eyes at her plate, only angering Harry even more. It was adorable how childish he was around his family, and in general. /He/ was adorable.

“You sound like someone took a-”

“Harry, babe,” I placed my fork down so I could tap his leg and stop him, “You don’t sound like a mentally retarded walrus, that’s just Gemma being Gemma. Your voice is much more suave.” I winked and effectively brought back a small smile to his face. Childish, I tell you.

“Lovebirds.” She scoffed. “But please, tell us some embarrassing stories. If Harry has one more idea of perfection about you I think the world might implode with fucking /love/.”

“Gemma, language.” Anne scolded as she sat and watched the show, something that must have been a regular occurrence at family meals. The look of smug happiness told me so, as she watched the two bicker across the table at each other. “But do tell us some stories. I love gossip of all sorts.”

“Well,” I began and set my fork down and watched as I had captivated all the eyes of the table, “I think I was around fifteen, maybe even sixteen, and I had just been informed that my eldest sister Lottie had just gotten a boyfriend. Some chav bloke named Chad or something, didn’t last more than a week, but anyway, she had a boyfriend.

“My mum thought it was proper time for her to have ‘the talk’” I used my fingers for the air quotes, laughing quietly as the memories came flooding back, “But she was out of town for the week, and she knew damn well that Lottie wasn’t going to find mister right on the first go, but still insisted that she got the talk done. My step dad Mark wouldn’t step up, saying it was out of his lead, so it naturally came to me. The eldest and all.”

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck with her head.” Harry stage whispered to me, eyes full of concern over my immature tendencies. I looked around the table and saw that Gemma was wearing her own smirk, a million thoughts flitting through her head, and Anne was sitting quietly with her more mature attention face on, even though I could see the gossiping-teenager underneath her worn eyes.

“I did no such thing, my mumma would have had my neck,” I laughed again and the emotion in his eyes diluted back to pure attention, “But I was forced to give her the talk. Long story short, and I do mean a very long story, I ended in getting groped and popped a boner in front of her.

“She screamed and started to cry, and of course I couldn’t comfort her popping one in my pants, so I ran out of the room in hysterics. Had to call my mum and everything, get Mark to comfort her while I tried to claw my face off from embarrassment.” The whole table was laughing along with myself, even though I had a large blush filling my cheeks.

“Oh shit, thats proper mad!” Gemma howled from her chair, slapping the table with her hand as her eyes twinkled with tears from laughing so hard. “You were groped /and/ got a boner? Thats twice the pain! How did she take it afterwards?”

“She couldn’t look me in the face for weeks, and if she had turned out to be a lesbian I would have know the exact time she found out she was.” I snorted, looking at Harry with his eyes closed tight and face red from laughing so hard. “She turned out straight though, but refers to the day as the worst day in her life. She didn’t even learn anything, it was more me just making vague motions and stuttering a bunch.”

“I can’t believe you Lou!” Harry squealed, wiggling in his seat as he tried to contain his laughter. “Giving little Lottie the sex talk. I can’t imagine that!” I laughed myself, feeling the familiar pain in my stomach from laughing too hard. Even Anne looked breathless, her face contorted to show her motherly laughter lines.

“That has absolutely nothing on Harry’s embarrassing story.” Gemma hiccuped between her short bursts of laughter. Harry physically froze at the mention of whatever story Gemma was referring too, his eyes widening to look at her with a sort of disgust. “Come on Haz, its not like he’s going to dump you over /this/.” She tried to make her face return to its neutral place, her smile showing how hard she was trying not to laugh.

Harry blushed with a frown, “It’s really embarrassing Gem, you promised you wouldn’t tell a single soul.” His eyes flitted to look at me before returning to Gemma.

“He’s going to find out one way or another, might as well laugh about it now.” She shrugged, her optimistic and troublesome eyes turning downwards as if she was going to leave the conversation alone. I knew better than to know that a Styles would walk away from something. “I could tell him if you wanted. Spare the trouble and all that.”

“I’m proper curious now Haz, I really want to know. It can’t be worse than mine, I promise.” I muttered, watching his eyes spark to mine with fear growing in them. “But if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine, I guess.” Reverse phycology better work now, I thought.

He seemed to be at war with himself, decided whether to tell me or not. He stayed silent for a little, picking at his food with his fork like it would make the decision easier somehow. His eyebrows were knitted together like it was a hard choice, making me all the more curious as to what his story could be.

“Fine.” He deflated and his fork made a ratchet scraping noise as he dropped it from his hand, “Gemma, tell the story.” He took a sip of his water while Gemma made a surprising outburst.

“Fucking finally!” She jumped out of her chair, fists pounding into the air like her favorite team had won the world cup. “This has been my favorite story /not/ to tell, this is a fucking miracle.” She answered my look of shock, sitting back down again and leaning over the table like it was some sort of secret.

“I don't see what makes the story so bad.” I dropped my own fork to take Harry’s hand in an effort to lighten his mood. It worked well, his back straightening as my thumb stroked his hand.

“It has all the best things included, feelings, sex, and STD’s.” She looked somewhat like a maniac, the way her eyes were large with excitement and how her words tumbled from her mouth like water from a stream. “But basically just STD’s.”

“Please continue.” I said with a sideways glance to Harry, seeing his eyes closed in a cringing sort of way. I gave his hand a comforting squeeze, watching his lips turn upwards in a sad sort of smile. I almost felt bad for pushing this as far as I did, seeing him look in so much pain. Almost. If he agreed to the telling of the story, it had to be seemingly okay to tell.

“Well, see, this was when Harry was a wee laddie. Still all gangly and pre-teens, just picture that. But he was still the charmer, all sweet and the romantic he still is. He had girls hanging off of him, which was weird because he didn’t look like that,” She swept her hand over Harry in a ‘like now’ method. I definitely understood what she was saying, he was a real catch for all standards, “So it was a bit to get used to.”

“Okay…” I nodded along, still lacking the understanding of how this story was embarrassing. Everyone had their awkward teen years, it was like a right of passage, so no surprise there.

“And then player two entered the game.” She sounded scary, the way her voice dropped so low and she tilted her chin down to look at me with menacing eyebrows.

“Ashley Pinson, grade whore.” She spat the girls name like acid while maintaining her menacing stare. I wouldn’t be lying if I said I was somewhat freaked out, “She was the literal class whore. She must have flung herself at everyone, girls included, it was quite pathetic to watch. And of course, she made her way to Harry.

“Harry had no clue what made her a whore, in his mind she was just another pretty girl who just had a lot of rumors circulating about her and people hating on her. He wasn’t even aware of his sexuality yet, so when she ‘asked him out’,” Even her air quotes dripped with sourness for this girl, “Of course he said yes.”

“In all truthfulness I thought she was sweet, she shared some of her lunch money with me when I had forgotten mine.” Harry whispered to me, his twisted face more neutralized than before. Leave it to Harry to give everyone pristine reputations, he would probably compliment Hitler on his shirt if he didn’t know about what he did. Another box checked for how adorably naive he was.

“Yeah, well that was once and she was loaded like a horse so…” Gemma trailed off before snapping back to the story, “But anyway, they started going out. No one had anything bad to say to Haz because he’s a giant puppy, as you know, but he got his fair share of bad looks because he was holding hands with Get-Around-Ashley in the halls. And then the time when she ‘made her move’.” And back came the evil smile that had be squirming in my pants.

“You don't mean…” I turned to Harry, who nodded pitifully at the unasked question. “You didn’t…”

“Yep!” Gemma all but yelled with a cackle of laughter that echoed off the walls, “He fucked the class whore!” She was raging with her laughter, even getting a pip of laughter out of Harry as he shook his curls. I looked at him with mild disgust. Of course Harry’s innocence would lead him down this path, he was too sweet for his own good.

He must have noticed my look of amazement from the corner of his eye, “Thats not even the bad part.” He groaned and I stuttered with untamed laughter. How could that not be the bad part?

“The bad part was the STD he caught from her.” Gemma belted, even Anne laughed at her end of the table at how animated Gemma was about this. She was a true older sister, meddling with her brothers love life. I was usually the same way, so it was fun to watch from a different point of view.

“What?!” I screeched dramatically, catching Anne off guard as she was getting more chicken. She jumped slightly from my outburst but still stayed out of the conversation, her laughter the only thing showing her input into the story-telling.

“Yep, your dear Harry Styles caught an STD from the school whore. Something treatable, mind you, but it was still hilarious watching him walk around the house funny because his junk was all infected.” She buried her head into her arms at an attempt to quiet herself at the memories she must have reconfigured. I tried to stifle my laughter with my hand, failing horribly because I could barley picture how a young Hazza looked waddling around the house in pain. Something I wouldn’t have minded catching on camera.

“You didn’t even wear a condom?” I gasped, my voice leaking with sarcasm that only made Gemma laugh harder, watching as he shook his head no with a small hiccup of laughter. “How the hell did you not wear a condom? And with a girl?” My stage whispering was outrageously bad, I realized, but it only lead to the cackling of Gemma from the other side of the table.

“I was fourteen, okay? I didn’t even know what condom’s properly did, let alone know how to wear one.” He whispered awkwardly, eyeing me before turning his eyes to his lap.

“Oh my god, you naive boy!” I finally let my laughter go, my cackles ricocheting off the walls in harmonization with Gemma’s. We even brought Anne into the laughter, because all mothers are secretly listening into the conversation. She just preferred not to get involved with the shenanigans.

“You aren’t mad with me?” He asked with clearly shown confusion.

I couldn’t prevent my laughter from getting any worse, “Why would I,” I tried to pause and catch my breath from all the laughing. “be mad at you,” another deep inhale of breath, “for getting an STD?”

HIs previously knit eyebrows deeped, “I...don't...know?” He huffed his questionable statement into the air, bring his hands up to rub his face. “I just thought you would be mad at me for some reason.”

“Babe, you clearly don’t know me at all.” I squeezed his knee gently to get him to look at me, “I can’t be mad at little fourteen year old you for lacking the proper sex-ed. I just find it hilarious that you, the biggest sweetheart, had sex with the school whore to prove your ‘point’.” My air quotes were shaking from my small bursts of giggles.

“Oh thank god.” Harry exhaled a deep breath that loosened his shoulders and relaxed his face, “Thank god for you.” He gave a comforting smile that I returned wholeheartedly. If we weren’t in the company of his family, I would be full out snogging him right now, but I knew I could only settle with a gentle peck. Which I got, with a quick lean over the table that Gemma groaned at.

“Well, since both of us dished out some top secret secrets,” I gave Gemma an evil gaze that I hoped was similar to the one she wore when staring at me. “I think it’s your turn to dish.” And the way Harry perked up at that, I knew tonight was going to be very interesting indeed.

 


End file.
